


You Only Live Twice

by drift99



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, BAMF Hermione Granger, BAMF Remus Lupin, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Black Hermione Granger, Boys In Love, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, Demisexuality, Desi James Potter, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay Male Character, Girls Kissing, Gray-Asexuality, Idiots in Love, James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Live, Lesbian Character, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Multi, Pining, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Queer Themes, Queerplatonic Relationships, Regulus Black Lives, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Trans Original (Minor) Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 53,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24140251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drift99/pseuds/drift99
Summary: When Remus and Hermione are thrust back through time to 1975, they just plan to save the world. No big deal. But navigating their own evolving relationships and queer identities proves to be nearly as challenging.An indulgent series of ‘what if’s’ that resulted in a queer, poly-friendly romp through time with a god-damn happy ending for once.While this is a WIP, I have the entire fic outlined and will continue to update frequently.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Remus Lupin, Hermione Granger/Original Female Character(s), James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 253
Kudos: 321
Collections: Marauders AUs, Marauders Era, marauders





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this fic concept bouncing around in my head for literal years now. I'm excited to put it out into the world. I hope y'all enjoy.
> 
> You can find me on TikTok (@fictionbutmakeitgay) if you want to nerd out about it. You're also more than welcome to comment on ao3. I read and respond to every single one! 
> 
> BIG thank-you to Maddy (TT @iswearimuptonogood) and Sydney for beta-ing this fic! 
> 
> If you'd like to follow along with the music in this fic, you can find the Spotify playlist here: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction
> 
> Oh! And please do NOT repost this to ff.net or wattpad, etc. You're welcome to post short *credited* excerpts. I've been flattered to see those on TikTok. 
> 
> xo Ace (they/them)

The first thing he heard was his mother’s lilting voice in the distance. Just out of reach, as always. He rolled over, intending to chase the dream back into unconsciousness when he smelled laverbread. Which was impossible. He hadn’t had a full Welsh breakfast since—well. 

Remus forced his eyes open and his body slightly more upright, taking in his surroundings. Twin bed flush against the old window, despite the chill, because he loved the view of his mother’s garden. Two shoddy bookcases exploding with novels and old textbooks alike. A small desk where he wrote to his friends and diligently prepared his summer assignments. A Bowie poster Sirius had given him for Christma and a handful of photographs of his friends stuck to the wall.

It was all... exactly how he remembered it. Which was, once again, impossible. He hadn’t been in this room some twenty years.

But something had happened. Something unfathomable and crazy and completely, utterly impossible. And yet here he was in his childhood bedroom, with his mother’s voice drifting from the kitchen. Was it more than a mere dream?

His hands flew to his torso, sliding under his oversized t-shirt to catalog his scars. Many familiar raises, welts, and punctures were there. Others... conspicuously absent. And his body felt, well, it felt more whole, as of yet untouched by age and destitution. The transformation had _worked_. His decades of memories remained intact, but his body was firmly fifteen.

Shell-shocked, Remus made his way to the kitchen and found her over the stove, frying up laverbread and bacon.

“Mam,” he croaked, tears pricking his eyes. Hope turned around and her smile was just as he remembered; warm and reaching out across her face, creating the little crow’s feet that he had always loved.

“My darling boy,” she greeted him, rising up on her tip-toes to smooth his hair, “be a lamb and set the table, would you? Lyall should be out of the shower any moment.”

◓

Remus found himself going through the motions that day with a rising sense of unease. He’d snuck a glance at his father’s Daily Prophet: August 18th, 1975. There were two weeks until the school term started: fifth year, the calm before the storm—back when they all thought they couldn’t be touched, that their adolescence would stretch on forever.

Remus knew better now, although a part of him longed for those delusions. He’d take any time he could siphon away with the people he loved. For the next two weeks, he soaked up his mother’s easy laughter and tender presence. He sat with her often while she puttered about in the garden, her with a trowel and him with a different book every day.

All he could do was wait for September 1st.

◓

Remus fiddled with the frayed sleeves of his jumper. He’d gotten to the station early, nerves on fire, even as he kissed his parents goodbye. Now he sat in their usual compartment, knees drawn up and hugged in close to his chest. This was the same compartment he’d shared with not only his fellow marauders for seven years but with Harry and his friends during his short tenure as a Hogwarts professor. It was strange, being a teenager again. In the weeks since his arrival in this timeline, he had felt the emotions and thoughts of his fifteen-year-old self come flooding back. Thankfully, they were tempered by the broader perspective granted by his lived experience as an adult. 

Lost in his thoughts, he was startled back to the present by the slam of the compartment door as his three oldest friends in the world came sauntering in.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t our resident swot.” His heart leaped at the familiar aristocratic drawl.

“What’d you expect, Sirius? I bet our Remus is just jonesing to get back to a real library. Textbooks alone cannot sustain him for an entire summer.” James winked at Remus and grasped his forearm, drawing him up and into a firm embrace.

“I’ll have you know that I didn’t even finish the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five,” Remus quipped reflexively.

“A technicality, surely,” Sirius scoffed as he pushed James out of the way, wrapping his arms around Remus. A low voice in his ear, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you squirreling away with Frank’s old copy last term. You’re the biggest swot I’ve ever met, Remus Lupin.”

Remus flushed and chuckled, “Get off me, you absolute menace.”

“H- hey Remus,” Peter smiled as he tentatively patted Remus on the back. Whatever Sirius and James lacked in regard for personal space, Peter made up for in spades.

They settled into their compartment, Sirius throwing his legs over Remus’ lap and beginning a steady stream of chatter with their mates about their summer escapades (Peter had accidentally dyed his mother’s kneazle flamingo pink), possible pranks for the new term (what about dying the hair of all Slytherin fifth years instead?), and as always: girls.

“I reckon this is the year, mates,” James proclaimed, waggling his eyebrows. “We’ll be up all night cuddling by the fire before Christmas. I promise you that.”

“Oh lay off it, Prongs,” Sirius laughed. “Lily may have flaming locks of auburn hair, but she’s not worth it! How about Marls? She’s a right laugh.”

Remus started humming Jolene under his breath as the others bantered, catching Sirius’s eye with a smirk as he finished the first verse. It had been a running joke when they first heard Dolly’s hit single. Sirius, of course, had slipped right into his role as James’s jilted girlfriend while Remus played Lily with her “ivory skin and eyes of emerald green.” James had been subjected to many such performances anytime he waxed poetically about his lady love. 

James narrowed his hazel eyes from behind his wire-rimmed glasses as he caught on, glaring at Remus.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Mr. Prefect?” he asked pointedly. Heart flying into his throat, Remus jumped up and belatedly made his way to the meeting and after, patrols.

◓

As the majority of students sat down to eat in the great hall, Remus scanned the room. Surely, he should have seen her by now.

The first years lined up for the sorting hat, Minerva wielding her parchment of names.

“Before we begin, I’d like to introduce a new student. She'll be entering her fifth year, although she has not studied with you all previously. I hope you’ll all give her a warm welcome to Hogwarts,” Minerva pursed her lips as she scrutinized the student body.

“Hermione Longbottom," she called and Hermione stepped out of the shadows. She towered above the first-years as she made her way to the Sorting Hat. It barely touched the top of her head before shouting, "Gryffindor!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! 💜


	2. Chapter 2

Remus’s eyes widened as Hermione made her way over to the Gryffindor table and took a seat with the other fifth-year girls. On the surface, she looked the same as when he’d known her at fifteen. Thick ebony curls that danced as she walked and freckled cheeks, though she carried herself differently now; jutting her chin out defiantly and keeping her back ramrod straight.

Distracted, he almost missed Frank’s reaction until Sirius elbowed him in the ribs and whispered, “Mate, Longbottom looks like he’s about to erupt in flames!” Following his gaze, Remus couldn’t help but agree with Sirius’s assessment. Frank Longbottom was red as a tomato, mouth set in a grim line as he resolutely kept his attention on the sorting that had begun and most definitely not on the girl who had been introduced as family.

Remus tried to follow Frank’s lead and pay attention to the sorting, but his mind was racing with the implications of Hermione’s arrival. Why Longbottom? What did Augusta and Frank know? How would this affect their mission?

To Remus’s secret delight, Sirius kept pulling him back to the present by keeping a running commentary under his breath as the first years were engulfed by the sorting hat.

“You see those glasses? There’s no way we haven’t got a Ravenclaw in the making there.”

“Hmm another product of generations of inbreeding. Gotta be... Slytherin!”

“Which words do you bet Dumbledore’s going to start the term with? I’m thinking... Cattywampus... Yeah. Bet you three chocolate frogs it’s Cattywampus.”

Remus couldn’t hold back a grin as Dumbeldore stood to welcome the students back and signal the start of the feast. Slyly, remembering this particular feast well, he whispered, “Malarky. And make it five. ”

Sirius scoffed, “You’re on, Lupin.”

“To our new students, welcome to Hogwarts, to our old students, welcome back! I won’t keep you from your bangers and mash long. However, before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Bibble! Collywobbles! Bumbershoot! Malarky!”

Sirius’s jaw dropped and he wordlessly dug through his bag for their remaining plunders from the trolley cart. Remus just grinned and tucked into dinner.

◓

Euphoria bubbled up in Remus’s chest as they made their way back to the dormitory after dinner. James laughingly kept up, teasing him for being so eager to get to bed.

“Here you go again, proving us right at every turn. You are the quintessential grandpa of the group!”

“Shut it, James,” Remus couldn’t help grinning at his friend. “Happy to be back, that’s all.”

“Mhmm happy to be back in your pajamas with your warm cocoa and a good book in our shared dormitory, you mean,” James shot back.

“Well...” Remus quipped, “you lot being around is a not insignificant part of the experience! How else could I possibly reap the fullest enjoyment from my cozy night in without you there to pester me?”

Remus nostalgically took in the common room as they passed through, but made a beeline for the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. He and James rushed up together, shoulder to shoulder, and burst into their shared room. Remus drew in a deep breath, laughing as he and James tumbled into their respective beds.

“It _is_ good to be back, you know?” James spoke quietly, with a fondness Remus could understand. In this room, they’d shared so many late-night conversations, secrets, and everyday rituals. It was the first place Remus had experienced unconditional friendship and acceptance.

“Yeah,” Remus murmured, heart clenching. “I know.”

James dug around in his pockets, turning up a handful of Pan Pasands. He tossed a couple to Remus, who carefully unwrapped the sweet Indian candy. Euphemia had always sent treats to school with James, a little taste of home. As he popped one into his mouth, it felt like home to him, too. 

Sirius and Peter wandered up shortly thereafter, looking like cats who’d caught a canary. Remus sat by his trunk, removing the hefty stack of books he’d brought with him this year. James had seen fit to find his toiletry stash but otherwise didn’t believe in unpacking.

“G- guys, you know the new girl?”

“Which one, Peter? There were approximately twenty that got sorted this evening,” Remus snarked even as he felt his heart start to race.

Peter rolled his eyes, “Hermione of course! Longbottom.”

Intrigued, James sat up, “Go on then. Who is she? Did Mr. Longbottom have a torrid affair?” His eyes twinkled, “I can see it now, headline: Tremendously Proper Wizarding Family’s Reputation Falls into Direspute Following Absolute Scandal.”

“Yes!” Peter squeaked. “An affair! That’s completely right. Marlene heard it from Alice who heard it from Frank himself!”

Sirius flopped down on James’s bed and took over, “Apparently she was their secret lovechild. Mr. Longbottom never said a word about it, until Hermione’s mum showed up with her in tow two weeks ago. Said she was tired of parenting—and I quote—‘his absolute terror of a child’ and left her there for the Longbottoms to deal with.”

“Sounds like she could be your kind of girl, Padfoot,” James winked. “Eager to piss off her family and certain to piss off yours.”

“I- I don’t know, guys. I heard she was a swot, like Remus. She barely left their family library those two weeks,” Peter interjected.

Three heads swiveled to appraise Remus.

“Hmm,” Sirius mused. “Even better. He needs a proper girlfriend, and he’s already ruled out all the girls we already know.”

James nodded enthusiastically, “this is perfect! Even if she isn’t the one for you, Remus, it could be good practice! Asking them out is the hard part. It’s all smooth driving from there.”

Remus cleared his throat, “Smooth sailing. It’s called smooth sailing. Also, we haven't even met the girl yet. I’m not going to ask someone out who I don’t even know. That’s ridiculous.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Yes, but you can _get_ to know her over a butterbeer and later—”

“Alright that’s enough of that,” Remus interrupted, his voice rising in embarrassment. 

◓

Remus laid in bed for a long while that night, waiting for the telltale snores and even breathing of his three roommates. Once he was certain that he wouldn’t be missed, he crept out of bed and down to the common room.

Hermione sat by the fireside, engrossed in a copy of Lest Darkness Fall.

“Doing your research, I see,” Remus observed, taking a seat beside her. She marked her spot and closed the book.

“What took you so long? I’ll have you know we’ve got class in the morning,” the upturned corners of Hermione’s mouth betraying her gibe.

He snorted. “Some of us have three extremely rambunctious roommates intent on throwing—if not the entire school—then at least each others’ lives into chaos.”

“Well, I really do want to get some sleep tonight. Shall we find a private place to talk?” she asked, stretching as she stood.

Remus agreed, and they made their way to the seventh floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words are coming a little easier for this chapter! Writing is hard work. Phew.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy! Please feel free to comment - it's really inspiring to write when I see folks reading and enjoying my work!


	3. Chapter 3

“Um, Hermione,” Remus paused as she paced to-and-fro in the corridor. “What exactly are we doing here? As much as I love... Barnabas the Barmy’s tapestry, I feel like we could have found a place to talk a little closer to the common room?”

His mouth slackened as a door appeared out of nowhere, in a part of the castle that they’d already plotted in the Marauders’ Map.

“Come on then,” she smirked, ushering him into a cozy sitting room, complete with a plush velvet couch, woven blankets, and... a large corkboard. Remus frowned, tracing his fingers along the dark mahogany of a crowded bookcase.

“What is this place?”

Hermione’s mouth twisted into something like a smile, “It’s known as the Room of Requirement. I’m surprised you boys never found it. It’s said to only appear when someone has a great need for it. Sometimes it’s a bathroom, or a broom cupboard to hide in. We used it for Dumbledore’s Army in Fifth Year, at Dobby’s suggestion.”

She hesitated, continuing, “It was also the location of Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem. That is, one of the rooms that it’s capable of spawning housed the diadem. And about a thousand other oddities.”

He glanced around in greater appreciation. “So, you wished for... what? A place for us to talk freely? Some interesting touches,” Remus mused, letting himself be engulfed by the couch and its many soft blankets and pillows.

Hermione laughed, “Yeah, that’s the general idea. Obviously, it’s quite good at intuiting the more specific needs and preferences of its users. It’ll be a good place to conduct our research if nothing else.”

Remus smiled back wryly, “I don’t know how I’m going to keep this a secret from the three stooges. I can only imagine the ragers they’d insist upon throwing. Worst of all, they’re going to be incredibly suspicious if they see us disappearing off the map here.”

She shrugged mischievously, “Maybe it’s time it got confiscated.”

“Eventually,” he agreed. "Maybe in sixth year. In the meantime, we'll just have to be careful."

Hermione nodded, as silence descended upon them.

Twisting his fingers nervously, Remus started as they spoke at the same time, “So—”

Chucking awkwardly, Remus motioned for her to go on.

“I suppose we should really talk about the elephant in the room. Or rather, the immortal being that’s probably not in the room?”

Remus opened his mouth to respond but found himself unable to speak. He tried again, screwing up his face in concentration. Hermione tried as well, grasping what he was attempting to say.

“That’s... an interesting development,” Hermione spoke slowly, “If we can’t say their name, perhaps there are further implications of what we’re allowed to disclose in this reality.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully, “Well, why don’t you at least try to catch me up on what I’ve missed. Maybe starting with the new family name?”

She launched into her unfortunate introduction to the Longbottoms, followed by what felt like a love letter to their private library.

◓

When Remus fell into bed at four in the morning, he felt cautiously optimistic. He had a second chance to prevent his world from crumbling. And he had a partner to do it with; someone of equal intellect and more importantly, the bravery and strength that he had so often found lacking in himself.

When he drifted off to sleep, it was to the comforting sound of the people he had loved the most in his life, softly snoring and perfectly, demonstrably alive.


	4. Chapter 4

Remus settled back into his life at fifteen with surprising ease. It was sometimes difficult not to slip back into their old nicknames, but Remus had always excelled at thinking before he spoke. Unlike some other blokes in their merry band.

He loved being around them again, Sirius and James. Their energy was as infectious as he remembered. Always up to something, whether it was flirting with every girl that they crossed paths with, plotting to ally themselves with the giant squid, or begging Remus and Peter to come toss a quaffle around on the weekends.

He felt awkward and conflicted around Peter, this boy who had once grown into a murderer and a coward. But at fifteen, Peter was nervous and sweet, conspiring with James and Sirius to become illegal animagi to ease Remus’s transformation. They all thought they were doing a bang-up job of keeping it secret, heads bowed over the same transfiguration texts and sneaking off in the middle of the night without him.

Just days ago, Remus had come back from the hospital wing to find them alternating between falling into uncharacteristic silence and over-enunciating (poorly) to make up for the mandrake leaves they were keeping under their tongues from one full moon to the next. Remus let them believe they were pulling one over on him.

And then there was Lily. They’d always been friends at Hogwarts, but fifth year was when they started prefect duties together. As it turns out, wandering the halls at night looking for miscreants (and definitely not your own dear friends) leaves a lot of time to just... talk. He’d missed her wit and her overwhelming kindness. While he’d not told her why he was absent every full moon, he thought she must know by now.

Between prefect duties, coercing his friends into doing their essays, and letting himself get caught up in their machinations, Remus stole away to meet Hermione in secret. They poured over texts borrowed from the library and bounced ideas off each other in stolen moments during quidditch practice or other times he wasn’t likely to be missed.

They’d also partnered with each other for Transfiguration. James and Sirius sat across the room and took great pleasure in making Remus uncomfortable with their suggestive eyebrow waggling, winking, and some unfortunate miming. In the halls between classes, Remus was frequently subjected to dramatic reenactments of what his friends perceived as potentially charged moments; the brush of a hand when exchanging a textbook or correcting a wand movement.

Remus wasn’t entirely sure that she hadn't started doing those on purpose, just to encourage them. He couldn’t really blame her; he’d be the butt of a thousand jokes if it meant seeing them like this. So unbelievably young and carefree.

◓

One fine day in late October, the students had come to a collective understanding that this might be their last weekend where lying about on the grounds was actually comfortable. They’d flocked to the sloping lawns between the castle and Forbidden Forest.

Remus was experiencing something close to euphoria as he sprawled out on a blanket they’d stolen from their dormitory and laid out on the grass, enlarging it to fit four adolescent boys.

He lay flat on his stomach, head turned to rest on the tops of his spindly hands. Sirius had seized his low back as a pillow, stretching out at a right angle from Remus and propping his feet in James’s lap. Peter, at loose ends, had picked up Remus’s abandoned book and was thumbing through it.

“Re-Remus, what’s an ‘Edda’?” he asked, scrutinizing the cover.

Remus murmured, “There are two Edda really. They’re 13th-century collections of poetry or prose on Norse legends. They catalogue the exploits of mythological figures; gods, heroes, and the creation of the world according to North Germanic peoples—”

Sirius yawned, the bastard.

“They’re stories,” Remus finished wryly. “Wildly fanciful ones at that.”

“Here’s a thought,” James cut in with a smirk, “I see a fine-looking bird sitting all alone over there. A proper swot, too. I bet she’d like you to read her some poetry.” Cue the eyebrow waggling.

Remus lifted his head lazily and followed James’s gaze across the field to Hermione. She sat alone on a rock overhanging the lake, reading from her own book. Her thick, windswept curls had caught a bit of breeze. He smiled and laid his head back down.

“I reckon she’s already read it. Anyways, I’m not moving. This great lump would never forgive me.”

Sirius hummed appreciatively, wiggling a little like a content puppy. His breathing soon evened out as he dozed in the afternoon sun. Letting out a deep, contented breath, Remus glanced back over at Hermione. She’d also set down her book, having been joined by Lily and Marlene, looking tentative but pleased. He smiled and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are y'all enjoying so far? Let me know what you're liking! xo Asa


	5. Chapter 5

In the months since the start of term, their hideout in the Room of Requirement had grown. Not literally... probably. But it had developed a worn-in quality that they both appreciated and curated with little touches. Remus left a jumper or two there, just in case he got cold. Hermione’s knitting needles and a monstrous ball of yarn had found a permanent place by the fireplace. Remus stockpiled a horde of chocolate, sagely proclaiming it “emergency rations.”

Their research was coming along, too. The corkboard had quickly reached capacity, with hastily scribbled lists pinned to it like “Methods of Horcrux Destruction”, “Original Timeline”, and “Consequences of Altering Reality.”

When it came down to it, Remus and Hermione were both academics. When confronted with a problem, they would always seek help in the library first. They were grateful for the extra time they’d been granted, having come this far back. Plenty of time for revision, so to speak.

Hermione squeaked in excitement, bent over a thick tome.

“What’d you find?” Remus asked, glancing up from his text. She blinked up at him owlishly, grasping for a bookmark.

“Okay,” she exhaled, setting it aside. “I finally found one—the only other recorded instance I’ve seen of someone going back in time and inhabiting their body from that time period.”

“You’re kidding,” Remus leaned forward in interest.

“Nope,” she shook her head. “Jadis Edman lived in the thirteenth century. She was fifty when she traveled through time. But she jumped so far back that, for all intents and purposes, she became a child again. Her memories remained intact, but her body and mind were that of her ten-year-old self."

“Blimey,” Remus muttered. “That certainly sounds familiar. I honestly feel fifteen again. The emotions, the thoughts, _oh god_ , the hormones.”

“I think you _are_ fifteen again,” Hermione said drily. “For better or for worse.” Remus grimaced, thankful that he had his memories to help balance him.

Hermione continued, “Obviously it’s a much smaller gap for me... nineteen to fifteen. But it’s still been jarring to return to this body...” She trailed off, thinking how untouched it was. She absently rubbed her arm, where Bellatrix had once carved Mudblood into delicate flesh.

“So what happened to her?” Remus asked, clarifying, “Jadis, I mean.”

“Oh,” Hermione frowned. “She actually died two years after traveling back through time.”

Remus sighed, “Well that’s... less helpful than I was hoping. But it’s still better than nothing.”

“It means we’re not the first,” Hermione agreed. They fell into a comfortable silence, not ready to get back to work.

“Shall we call it for the day?” Remus asked uncertainly, glancing at the clock. He estimated they had about half an hour before the rest of the marauders came back from Hogsmeade to track him down.

It had been a herculean effort in and of itself to convince them to leave him to sleep in that morning. No matter how many times Sirius and James belted “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” at each other, Remus refused to extricate himself from his tangle of blankets. Eventually, Peter had taken pity on him and shepherded them out.

“I suppose,” she conceded, shifting in her velvet armchair. Neither of them moved to leave, although he did stretch out on the sofa, his joints letting out an audible crack that sounded throughout the room.

“So how was it?” she asked, “I assume this was the first time they joined you?”

“Yeah, first transformation with all of them. They loved it, of course. Romping about the forest with a werewolf. Perfectly normal activity for three teenage boys.” He shook his head fondly. “Sirius and I howled at the moon together, or so I’m told. It’s always a little... fuzzy.”

She nodded. “I assume the nicknames are back then? It’s been strange not hearing you call him Padfoot.”

Remus grinned, “Yeah. They’ve all settled on theirs based on their animagus forms. It’s only a matter of time before they bestow upon me the most obvious and horrid nickname they could think of.”

Hermione tittered, “You love it. You absolutely love it, you great big liar.” He laughed and didn't deny it.

“So are you staying here for hols?” he asked.

Hermione shrugged with a half-smile, “I have a feeling I wouldn’t be particularly welcome at ‘home.’ Besides, if I stay here, perhaps I can soften up Mrs. Pince. See about gaining lawful access to some of the restricted section.”

Remus chuckled, “Due to my association with certain malefactors, I can’t really offer you any advice. But even Lily tells me it’s nigh impossible to get in her good graces. All it takes is an ill-timed sneeze, and you’re on her blacklist forever.”

Hermione sighed, “Well, it was a thought. Are you going home? Or visiting the Potters maybe?”

Remus smiled softly, “Home. Might join them after Christmas, but home first. My mam always makes us attend Plygain on Christmas morning. It’s bloody awful, getting up at 3 am to attend a service. But afterwards, there’s pretty much a full day of feasting and drinking. It’s _wonderful_.”

She laughed, “Well, have a drink for me. That sounds incredible, if a bit overwhelming.”

“You basically take two days to recover afterwards,” he agreed wryly. Hermione giggled, and he couldn’t help but join in. Her laughter was infectious.

“It’s nice getting to know you better,” she said, still smiling at him. “I always sort of wondered—if the circumstances were different, would we have become friends?”

“Yeah,” he said, cocking his head. “It’s obviously still strange—having these memories of being your professor. But I do feel like, at least in these circumstances, friendship is almost inevitable.”

“You might be right,” she hummed, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “To be honest, though, I much prefer you at fifteen.”

At his affronted glare, she continued smugly, “Much more relatable. And I have a feeling—a bit of a disaster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plygain is a traditional Welsh Christmas service that takes place in a church between three and six o'clock in the morning, traditionally on Christmas morning.
> 
> And the song referenced is of course by Elton John and Kiki Dee.


	6. Chapter 6

Before they knew it, winter had thawed into spring. Remus felt discomfited by how quickly time was passing. Soon, they’d be celebrating his 'sixteenth' birthday. And after that, Easter hols. 

Standing there on the lawns, however, he was rather wishing to fast-forward through this bit. 

As an adult, he’d tried not to think too hard about the contentious relationship between Snape and the four of them. It was... uncomfortable. Snape had been an easy target with his sallow skin and house pride. Remus felt ashamed to admit that it’d even been a sort of unifying force for them; dreaming up schemes to prank him, trading barbs, and shit-talking had all brought the Marauders together.

Having experienced so much beyond Hogwarts, he now recognized that, while Snape had undoubtedly fought back and been an ass, they’d been bullies. They _were_ bullies. You can’t have four-against-one and call it even. And yet Remus found himself glued to the spot as James descended upon Snape, twirling his wand maliciously. Having the memories of an adult but the brain of a teenager was... discomfiting. 

“What do you think, Padfoot? Shall we have a go?”

“I think the little bastard’s practically begging for it, Prongs.”

James smirked and vanished Snape’s trousers. With him dangling in the air with his pants on display, Remus felt like he was a spectator to his own body. Why didn’t he do something? Say something?

Lily did. She swept in like a hurricane, her cheeks red with fury as she screamed at James. But just as quickly as she’d appeared, the wind changed again. All it took was one word, and a life-long friendship was well and truly over. 

“I don’t need help from a _mudblood_ like you!”

Remus winced, even having known it was coming. How had he let it get to this point _again?_

When his eyes refocused, they found Hermione standing in the distance. She jerked her head towards the castle and he quietly slipped away in the aftermath. 

◓

Safely tucked away in the Room of Requirement, Hermione produced a bottle of firewhisky, pouring them each a glass.

“Where’d that come from?” he lifted an eyebrow at her as she handed him a glass.

“I may or may not have snuck away over Christmas and gotten to know Madam Rosmerta a bit better,” Hermione smirked. “She was willing to bend the law when I volunteered to help her tackle the doxy infestation at her aunt’s house. I guess cleaning out Grimmauld Place had _some_ benefits.”

Remus hummed, taking a sip. He sat back, chewing his bottom lip anxiously as his mind circled back to the events of the afternoon. 

“It’s okay, you know,” she said, eying him carefully, “to not be perfect. Everyone has a weak spot.”

His brow furrowed, gaze fixed on his glass as amber liquid swirled within. 

“It was understandable, before,” he said finally. “It wasn’t right—but we were stupid and _so_ young. And now I’m neither of those things, and I _still_ can’t gain the courage to say something—to stand up to them.”

Hermione sighed, leaning back into the cushions. “Okay not to be a complete dick about it, but are we sure we can’t just let this whole thing go? Like, Snape is and continues to be a _huge_ asshole.”

He choked, looking up at her in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, “But seriously—the man was a literal death eater. He only ‘changed sides’ to save Lily. And he bullied children for _years_! Personally, I’m not going to lose any sleep if you never say a word, and James keeps trying to switch out his shampoo for coconut oil or Sirius calls him a cunt.”

“Hermione—,” Remus sat forward, lines wrinkling his forehead.

“No,” she shot back. “You weren’t there, Remus. You don’t—you didn’t see him with Harry. With Neville! It was awful.” She shivered. “Besides, even if you did make it your personal mission to end the feud, you really think they’d stop? Him or James and Sirius? Your boys would just pick fights when you weren’t around.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “About Harry and Neville.”

She shrugged. “Let’s just make sure they have parents to stick up for them this time, yeah?”

He nodded, draining his glass.

“I’ve been thinking, though—,” he paused, shifting in his seat. “What if I _do_ want to change more? I just—what if I don’t want to just go through the motions?”

“You mean with your friends?”

“Yeah.” He tugged on the hem of his jumper, looking over at her nervously.

“Remus,” she said softly. “You’re not the same person you were twenty years ago. I think you could let that come through more now. Be yourself. Make different choices if you want to. There’s nothing you could do that would change the way they feel about you. You know that, right?”

He huffed and glanced down awkwardly.

“Remus, you may as well have hung the moon—no pun intended—for how they look at you. I’ve never seen such devotion. I genuinely think if you told them you’d killed someone, they’d say ‘Okay, where’s the body?’ They are _that_ ride or die.”

He laughed, scrubbing his face. “Fuck. You’re probably right. Let’s hope it never comes to that.”

“A frightening thought indeed.” Her lips twitched.

As they settled further into the couch, chatting softly, Remus felt the pressure in his chest ease a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoping to wrap up fifth year next week! Leave a comment and make my day! xo Asa


	7. Chapter 7

Heart pounding, Remus wanted to throttle whomever had invented “jogging” as a form of exercise. It was bloody awful. He’d been building up his endurance slowly over the past couple of weeks, but his chest still burned and his mouth felt dry as sawdust. This hadn’t been precisely how he’d envisioned his summer break, but Hermione had insisted they get a jump on the athletic training they’d planned for their next year at school.

He was nearly back to the cottage now, his pace slowing on the country lane. Just a quarter mile left. Remus focused on steadying his breath, puffing rhythmically along with the thump of his feet on packed dirt.

By the time he limped through the front door, he was drenched in sweat with jelly legs. He chugged two glasses of water and hopped through the shower. As water flooded over his skin, Remus tried to clear his mind. Fixating on it wouldn’t change anything. All he could do was make the most of the time they had together. Here and now.

Toweling off, he stepped into a pair of ratty jeans and a well-worn jumper. He grabbed a notepad and pen, and made his way to the garden. His mam was already nestled among the herbs, rooting around in the dirt for weeds. He greeted her cheerily and plopped down under the shade of a sycamore tree.

Remus rested against the trunk and began responding to the letters that had piled up from his friends over summer hols so far.

James had scored tickets to a match, the Ballycastle Bats vs. Puddlemore United, and was hoping to convince them all to join him. Remus politely declined; the only games he attended were either under extreme duress or to support James and Sirius. He’d found himself roped into doing announcements for the house cup one year; his droll remarks had not gotten him invited back.

Peter had discovered the muggle cinema and wrote enthusiastically about the Omen, which he’d gone to see three times. Remus wrote back with suggestions of films he might like, if he could convince his mother to get a television set.

Lily sent a postcard from Greece through the regular post. If he read between the lines, she seemed to be having a bit of a summer fling with a local. Remus asked her to get some sun on his behalf; Merlin knew they both could use it.

Hermione had written several short missives, mostly badgering him to stick with the daily runs. She had apparently also found an exceptional ramen shop, which she promised to take him to later that summer when he visited. He rolled his eyes and scrawled “You’re a menace. Are you trying to kill me? If I survive until then, dinner’s on you.”

Sirius hadn’t written, but that wasn’t surprising. His family likely had him under house arrest with nothing in, nothing out. Remus made a note to pen some extra long letters later in the summer to make up for lost time.

He set aside his notebook as Hope joined him in the shade. She’d tied a floppy sun hat underneath her chin. Even as her health continued to decline, she was beautiful. She smiled at him contentedly, crows’ feet forming.

“Will we be seeing the boys later this summer, then?” she nodded at the letters he’d been re-reading.

Remus shook his name, teasing, “Don’t let them fool you. They’ll charm you all day long with that posh, good-boy act, and then they’ll make off with your ‘herbal remedies’ in the night.”

Hope laughed, “Don’t I know it!”

She leveled her gaze upon him, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you doing the same since you were fourteen, young man.”

His arms shot up, “I’ve been framed! I’m innocent”, dissolving into laughter.

They relaxed by the garden the rest of the afternoon, chatting and dozing off intermittently. Remus sleepily pondered how he’d been so lucky to have such a mother. Someone he could really talk to and laugh with. She was extraordinary. She couldn’t have known what her life would become, when she married a man with a twisted stick that could turn pinecones into porcupines. And yet she’d loved them both so fiercely, even when Remus had been bitten. Maybe especially then.

He sometimes wondered at the chasm between her and Lyall’s parenting choices. Remus’s father took a more... hands-off approach. For years, he’d fixated on finding a cure for lycanthropy. He’d drug Remus and Hope to countless witchdoctors, quacks, and mystics. If he felt affection towards Remus, that had been the form it’d taken. Once the leads on magic cures dried up, however, Lyall took to disappearing into his work and occasionally the stilted niceties that were required at the dinner table.

In his past life, Remus had never been able to recover his relationship with his father. And without Hope to anchor them, there had been no cause to mend it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we'll pivot to Hermione next chapter! See what she's getting up to in London. Any guesses?


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione glanced down at her watch compulsively. Only a few more minutes until she could justify leaving without being ridiculously early. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she undid the shoestring keeping her curls up. They sprung out before she re-tied the shoestring, gathering her hair up out of her face. 

Checking her watch again, she shuffled over to the antique wardrobe and straightened her clothes. She should get more. She made a mental note to talk Remus into visiting the shops with her in a few weeks.

On her way out the door, she passed Frank and Alice on their way in. Newly graduated, they’d both started training as aurors with the ministry. When they did cross paths, Frank treated her kindly, despite her abrupt and unwelcome appearance in their lives. Hermione could see Neville’s unwavering integrity and sense of justice in them both. She gave a tentative little wave and smiled as she brushed past the couple.

She caught a bus, tapping her foot in anticipation. She made the trek to Hackney four times a week, determined to soak up as much technique as she could during the summer. Irene’s was a small boxing gym, providing a place for both your average woman looking to learn some self-defense and also your more serious female boxer.

On the train ride back from Hogwarts at the start of summer hols, Hermione had mentioned her intention to find a gym for some classes; preferably boxing, or another martial art. Among the Gryffindor girls in their year, Marlene was both the most adventurous and she lived in London. Hermione really should have predicted that she would jump at the chance to learn something new, even if that something was how to jab, pivot, and tuck your chin.

Over the past month, these classes had become the highlight of Hermione’s week. And Marlene certainly factored into that. Marlene appeared to actually have the confidence that Hermione so often faked. She took the exhaustion and bruising and Irene’s critical feedback all in-stride and Hermione loved her for it. That being said, she was also perpetually late, sliding in next to Hermione when they were well into their warmups.

Today was no exception. As Irene had them jump roping, Marlene scurried through the front door with an apologetic smile that might have looked contrite if you didn’t know her. She pulled her dark hair back into a sloppy ponytail and jumped in as Irene transitioned them to practicing good form.

“What happened today, McKinnon? Miss your bus again?”

“Ack! My wee brother’s a klepto!” Marlene whispered back, “Family intervention for the turnip head.”

Hermione hummed suspiciously as they moved into jabs.

“Hey, this time it’s true. Haru got caught slipping a pack of chewing gum into his pocket at Speedy’s yesterday. Terribly embarrassing for my dad, you know.” she ruined the effect by laughing. Hermione knew by now that Marlene’s dad was a muggle pharmacist.

“Yes, I can tell you’re really broken up about it.” Hermione deadpanned.

As they began partnered work, Marlene re-enacted the confrontation with her own commentary thrown in for good measure. Hermione tried not to laugh as she aimed for the pads and tried to keep her guard up. Every time she slipped, Marlene slapped her with the mitts and teased her mercilessly.

“Can’t let your guard down, Longbottom! What _would_ Irene say?”

Irene always seemed to appear at just the wrong moment, surveying them both with a grim expression. “Irene would say ‘Get back to work. This isn’t a comedy club.’”

Hermione and Marlene dissolved into a fresh round of giggles, and Irene’s lips twitched. Hermione suspected she may not be quite the hardass she would have her pupils believe.

After class, they were both sweaty messes, so they hit the communal showers and then grabbed a sandwich nearby.

On her way back to the bus stop, Hermione couldn’t resist grabbing a slice of cake at a local bakery. The chocolate frosting felt decadent in its richness against her tongue. Walking down Amhurst, she quietly wished Harry a happy birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I've been fleshing out some plot and character development in the interim. Getting really hyped about this story!


	9. Chapter 9

Having recovered from the last full moon of the summer, Remus made his way to London for the last two weeks of August. Lyall drove him to Cardiff early that morning, stiffly warning Remus not to go out after dark, to be a conscientious guest, and to avoid temptations of the flesh.

He’d been on a train to Paddington the past two hours, knotting up the end of his loose jumper with restless fingers. When he disembarked at the station, he was relieved to find Hermione quickly in the crowd. Her corkscrew curls bounced as she jogged up for a shy hug. His trunks dragged behind him, a weighty anchor, all the way back to the Longbottoms’ townhouse.

Hermione shook her head as they get off their last bus. “We really need to do something about these trunks. They’re so impractical in Muggle London!”

Remus huffed, his arms aching, “If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.”

She hummed mysteriously and led him into the foyer. Augusta still cut an intimidating figure at this age, standing imperiously by her husband’s side. They formally welcomed him to their home, but otherwise left them to their own devices. Remus was set up in a spacious guest room down the hall from Hermione’s suite.

They collapsed on her four-poster bed, feeling surprisingly relieved to be back in each others’ company.

“Alright, what’s the latest? I know for a _fact_ that you’ve been holding out on me in your so-called letters.” Hermione accused.

Rolling his eyes, Remus turned it back on her, “Well, if you weren’t always badgering me about my runs, maybe I would have written more.” He softened his words, “I mean, I probably should have written more. Honestly, things have been pretty quiet on my end.”

“My mam hasn’t been doing well, although you’d never catch her letting on. I pretty much spent the whole summer curled up next to her in the garden.”

She reached down and squeezed his hand tenderly.

He continued, “Sirius moved in with the Potters a few weeks ago. James said he’s been avoiding the issue, as usual. Just pretends everything’s fine, even though his family literally burned him off the family tree.”

“That sounds about right,” she murmured, “I remember how hard he tried to fake a sense of normalcy at Grimmauld Place for Harry.”

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” he shook his head wryly.

◓

They spent the rest of the week traipsing about London, stopping for a curry or fish and chips when they get hungry. They got lost in the British Museum and the Tate Modern. Remus even wheedled Hermione into skipping their workouts for the rest of break, and instead they stayed up too late and slept until the early afternoon. It was glorious.

Hermione did indeed talk Remus into visiting the charity shops with her. It wasn't a hard sell. He helped her pick out what feels like a whole new wardrobe, from bright halter tops to cropped tees that Hermione would have once called retro but are in actuality quite contemporary. He gassed her up so effectively that she found herself modeling little black dresses in Oxfam.

Her allowance from the Longbottoms has been more than generous, so she snuck a few items for Remus into her cart. He’d just looked so adorably grunge in the distressed denim jacket and fitted plaid trousers.

To top it off, they found a couple of sturdy duffle bags that Hermione insisted could replace their trunks. Hidden from the prying eyes of the ministry by the magical protections of the Longbottom family home, Hermione performed an undetectable extension charm on their new bags.

“There,” she sat back, “No more lugging that horrid thing around. Although I suppose we might want to consider a lightening charm as well...”

◓

Squeezed into a corner booth together, they giggled at the absurdity of having to forge IDs in order to get a drink at the local pub. Warm both from their proximity and the cheap whiskey, secrets slipped through their loosened lips.

“I’m gay, you know,” Remus confided. “Well, close enough anyway. Gay with exceptions? Queer for queers?”

“I did always wonder. You and Sirius seemed so...”

Remus barked a laugh, “Oh god. You’d think, wouldn’t you? No, he's straight as an arrow.”

He quieted, “I always thought, maybe... But if there was something there, he never acted on it with me. I never even came out to him. He probably knew anyway. James did. But it always went unspoken.”

She draped her arm around him and squeezed. “I’m sorry, Remus. It must have been hard. Merlin, it must be hard now- I’ll always have your back, you know. If you did want to.”

He raised the tumbler to his lips, only to find it drained. Exhaling wearily, he replied, “I’ve certainly thought about it. This is my do-over, right? Make better choices. Or at least different choices. Do the things I said I would do or always wanted to.”

Hermione tapped her index finger musingly, “I know what you mean. There are so many things I’ve been afraid of doing. Or just never got around to. Hold on- what if we made a bucket list?”

He straightened, or tried to, rather, “You mean a list of all the things we want to do before this all goes to shit?”

“Precisely.”

She extracted a pen from her bag and slid a bar napkin between them. An hour later, Hermione slowly read through the list.

“Remus... we’ve just written down a bunch of deviancies! I mean, not entirely. But nearly!”

Remus had dissolved in a puddle of laughter against her shoulder.

“With any luck,” he rasped, “we’re going to be the cretins your parents warned you about. That’s the collective you, mind. Every mother and father’s worst nightmare!”

◓

The next morning, Hermione let herself into his room and bounced on the bedsprings. Obnoxiously waving a piece of paper in his face, she asked “Ready to get started?”

They went to the piercing shop that afternoon.

Well, they walked and talked in circles most of the day as they took turns deciding it was a terrible idea. But eventually, they did walk through the doors together. They left emboldened, a hoop through Remus’s nose and twin barbells nestled together through Hermione’s left eyebrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm really enjoying writing this story. But I feel like it needs a better title? "Set It Right, Set Alight" is just something I had come up with when I published my first chapter. But I think it needs something a little different.
> 
> Any ideas? 
> 
> xo Asa


	10. Chapter 10

Hogwarts still evoked the feeling of pulling on a well-loved jumper. They slid back into lock-step with their respective friends while also attempting to juggle classes, homework, and now training. Frankly, it was exhausting.

Hermione had them on a strict exercise schedule. Filled with jargon Remus didn’t always understand, it would be a sight to behold even if it wasn’t color-coded. They ran most days, but they also rotated through targeted core exercises, flexibility and balance drills, and burpees. So many burpees.

Remus hated it, but not as much as he liked to pretend. Mostly he hated that in order to fit it in, he never got a good lie-in anymore.

If he failed to meet her at the prescribed meeting time, which was, of course, a good five minutes before they were actually due to leave the common room according to her schedule, Hermione would flounce up the stairs to their dormitory and rip open the curtains around his bed. Well, she ripped open James’s the first time.

She’d since become well-acquainted with whose bed was located where, even if the occupants occasionally shifted around. It wasn’t uncommon to find Sirius had bed-hopped in the middle of the night, tucking himself into bed next to whichever boy was still awake and available for late-night conversation.

The rest of the marauders had been equal parts appalled and delighted to have their privacy invaded most mornings. On the one hand, it was embarrassing. Well, that was mostly Peter’s hangup, self-conscious about being seen in or out of his pajamas. Sirius waffled between sulking at being ‘abandoned for hours on end with no sources of entertainment and no friends to speak of’ (which never failed to elicit an indignant ‘Hey!’ from James) and joyous support of Remus having a romantic prospect. James tried to take Remus under his wing as a ‘student of the finer techniques of wooing a lady.’ He was not successful. Being gay did rather get in the way of that. And even if he were straight, he didn’t think he would ever see her that way, having been her professor in what increasingly felt like a past life. 

While Remus hadn’t confirmed or denied a thing, that silence in and of itself had rather validated their suspicions. He was assumed to just be too shy or too gentlemanly to kiss and tell. Remus justified the misunderstanding with the fact that it made both of their lives easier. It was simply assumed that he and Hermoine would sequester themselves for hours at a time, even without the excuse of a morning run.

On this particular morning, Hermione dragged him away from his bed and a sleepy Sirius. Grumbling, Remus stumbled through the motions of changing into a loose T-shirt and joggers and grabbed his shoulder bag and uniform.

As they made their first lap around the quidditch pitch, Remus fell into their usual routine of half-hearted bitching and moaning.

“Surely you’d rather take today off,” he puffed. “We could call it right now. Crawl right back into a warm bed.”

Veering slightly into his path to knock him off course, Hermione rolled her eyes. Well, he didn’t see her roll her eyes. But he knew she had.

“And just why would we do that?”

“Well, I have it on good authority that it’s your birthday.”

Her steps faltered and she glanced over, frowning. “And how did you know that?”

He pivoted, running sideways in order to smirk at her, “Surely you’re aware that Lily and Marlene are planning some sort of jamboree to commemorate your seventeenth.”

“Jamboree? What are you, eighty-five?”

"Only in my heart!" He joked, sticking his tongue out cheekily. "But I hear _someone_ is going to be twenty."

"That's not how it works," she grumbled. "I'm still stuck at sixteen."

◓

Before they parted ways at the quidditch changing rooms, Remus rummaged through his shoulder bag. “Hang on a mo. I’ve got your present with me. Thought you might like it early.”

He pulled out a hardcover book with an unassuming, nondescript dustjacket. He thrust it towards her and leaned back on his heels, biting his bottom lip in barely contained amusement.

Flipping through the pages, Hermione nearly dropped it in surprise, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“Remus Lupin,” she hissed. “Is this a SEX book?”

Remus couldn’t help his shit-eating grin.

She leaned in threateningly, “What I said that night... I thought we agreed not to speak of it again.”

“Well, I never agreed to that! Besides, getting you laid definitely went on the bucket list. It was right at the top, too, along with- ”

She swatted him with the book and he changed tacks. “It’s quite comprehensive. There are even some diagrams you might like. Very practical.”

Still blushing furiously, Hermione secreted it away in her bag. “Fine. That was very... thoughtful of you. I suppose. But also, _fuck you_ , you absolute tosser.”

He chuckled fondly, “Happy Birthday, Hermione.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're onto sixth year! Lots in store for our bbs. I'm going to try and move the main plot forward next time, but I do want to circle back to a more Hermione focused chapter soon. 
> 
> As always, please comment if you're enjoying! Shout out to @WintersGreen for their comment. Really made my day. 💜


	11. Chapter 11

After a year of planning, Remus and Hermione finally embarked on their first task. It would be a test of sorts. If they could accomplish this, then maybe, just maybe, they could bring the whole plan to fruition.

Within the first task, they had drafted a list of sub-tasks. For much of that fall, they sat on their hands, waiting for the right opportunity. Finally, on a Hogsmeade weekend, Dumbledore left the castle.

Remus had taken possession of the map after their last prank, claiming that someone needed to bring the rest of the marauders to heel—at least until the incident was forgotten. Best to let it blow over while they laid low.

Now, he and Hermione carefully consulted the map as they made their way to the Headmaster’s Tower. Nearly there, they ducked into an alcove together and Hermione brought forth a glass vial.

“Wish you could go with me,” she grumbled.

“Me, too,” he squeezed her arm. “Really is a shame it only works on humans.”

She looked pained, “Remus you are human. I don’t care what—”

He cut her off, “Well, it’s rather a moot point in this case. Werewolves can’t take polyjuice.”

“I know, I know,” she grimaced. “Okay, bottoms up.”

She doubled over in pain as her body rapidly morphed into that of one of the fifth year girls. Remus clapped her on the shoulder as she stood.

“Ready?”

She nodded faintly.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting here, ready to intercept if anyone comes this way.”

Hermione correctly guessed the password (Dumbledore had apparently been a long-term connoisseur of sherbert lemons), climbed the stairs, turned her back on the portraits, and extracted two of her memories for the pensieve.

She was back within fifteen minutes, at which point they waited until the potion wore off before heading to the Room of Requirement.

They collapsed on the sofa together, legs tangling as they leaned against opposite ends.

“Well, that’s the first bit down.”

“Do you think you got it?” Remus asks nervously.

She laughs shortly, “Christ. I don’t know. From what I recall, Ron literally gargled at it. How could that have worked? The only explanation I can think of is that the password isn’t in Parseltongue, per se, but rather it’s a series of sounds that happen to correspond to the Parseltongue phrase 'open up.'”

She shook her head in exasperation. 

“Regardless, let’s hope I’m as good a mimic as Ron was. I re-watched the memories of both him and Harry saying it about ten times apiece.”

“If anyone can do it, it’ll be you,” Remus nudged his toes against her with an encouraging smile.

◓

Several weeks later, they stole away when everyone else was headed to bed, equipped with the map and James’s cloak. James had been more than happy to assist Remus with a ‘nighttime rendezvous.’

As Remus clutched an irate rooster to his chest in the pumpkin patch, he rather wished the evening was more aligned with what James envisioned. He shushed the bird nervously as Hermione swept the cloak over them.

Back in the castle, they awkwardly made their way to the second-floor girls’ lavatory. Thankfully the mirror they’d stashed there earlier in the day was still leaning against the stall. An ornate gold monstrosity Hermione had found in the Room of Hidden Things, it was perfect for their purposes; large but capable of being held aloft by a sturdy teenage girl.

Remus was relieved to be freed of the cloak, which he always had to crouch under in order to successfully hide his gangly body. Unfortunately, he was stuck cradling the rooster, slumped against the wall, as Hermione tried to bend the syllables to her will. Eventually, the engraved snake on the tap writhed, triggering the entrance to open.

Hermione hoisted the mirror up and they made their way through the corridor and into the basilisk’s lair with no small amount of trepidation. Neither of them had seen a live basilisk before, let alone tried to kill one. That’s where their friend the cockerel came in.

When the chamber had been opened in 1992, Ginny had slain every rooster on the grounds. Thankfully, the basilisk didn’t have that kind of advantage this time. One rooster’s crow, and it would perish as instantly as those subjected to its direct gaze.

They edged past the towering pillars of carved snakes, pausing close to the Statue of Slytherin, where the basilisk was said to reside. It had clearly sensed their presence, as they heard the slide of scale against scale. It was uncoiling and making its way out.

“Okay anytime now,” Remus muttered, holding the bird out. Not a peep. This heretofore squawking creature was silent as the grave. It twisted its head back to stare accusingly at Remus with one beady eye.

“Christ on a cracker,” he groaned.

Hermione nodded with determination. “Okay, plan B it is.”

She darted out with the mirror lifted high, keeping her eyes trained on the floor lest she meet the basilisk’s gaze. Of course, the rooster _would_ choose that moment to kick out and escape Remus’s grasping hands. It flew across the room, temporarily diverting the basilisk’s attention from Hermione.

“Bloody hell,” Remus swore quietly, or so he thought. The basilisk turned towards him, lunging with terrifying speed to his hiding place by one of the carvings. For the first time, he was seeing the real-world benefit of their physical fitness regime. He ran like hell, shooting around corners as adrenaline surged through his heart.

He vaguely registered Hermione’s voice as she shouted for him to keep his eyes down, and then her feebly hurled insults as she tried to reassert herself as the main threat. It worked.

The basilisk turned its yellow eyes to her, and its gaze met the reflective surface of that gaudy mirror. Its body stilled instantaneously, paralyzed like the luckier of its victims.

“REMUS,” Hermione screamed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he panted, chest heaving as his heart works double time. “I’m fine.”

The rooster crowed, and their knees buckled as they fall to the wet stone in delirious, raucous laughter. It was dead.

Once they recovered their senses, they carefully collected its venom in little vials they would store in the Room of Requirement until graduation.

Remus wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders, tugging her against him as they trudged through the corridor.

“You’re an absolute wonder, you know.”

“I know,” she grinned before forcing him to stop and meet her gaze. “We really can do this. Tonight proves that.”

“I don’t know that tonight proves anything about _me_ other than I don’t know shit about chickens,” Remus laughed, deflecting. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit, Remus Lupin. Together, you and I are going to change the course of history. And don’t think for one second that there’s anyone else I’d rather have at my side.”

He melted a little in the face of her unwavering confidence. “Okay,” he murmured, “let’s get to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! That was a fun one to write. What did you think?
> 
> I'd seriously love to hear your thoughts. I promise to read & respond to every comment.
> 
> Thank you 💜  
> Asa


	12. Chapter 12

Feeling buoyed by their success with the basilisk, Hermione allowed herself a mental respite. They still jogged most mornings and snuck away for magical combat practice, but she felt the ever-present tension in her shoulders ease just a little. Outside of training, acquiring that venom had been their primary objective for sixth year.

She’d been pleasantly surprised by the friendships she had formed over the last year. She’d always felt that she and Remus could be kindred spirits, but the reality was far beyond what she imagined. They were so often on the same wavelength, and not just because they were both total nerds. Hermione felt her guard lessening more and more around him, and vice versa.

And then there were her roommates: Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary. In the 1990s, Hermione had tended to avoid spending time in her dormitory in order to escape Parvati and Lavender’s girl talk. They had always rubbed her the wrong way, and they clearly felt the same about her. Oil and water, always.

That just wasn’t the case now, and Hermione couldn’t understand why. They did talk about boys, sometimes incessantly. While she presented a no-nonsense front, Dorcas was secretly a romantic. She read trashy books and pined from a distance.

Hermione’s relationship with Lily, at least, made sense; Lily was better-read than just about anyone and exuded the sort of passion that Hermione had often felt growing up.

Mary was a special case. Hermione had never known anyone as sincere and kind; the girls often described her as being “too pure for this world.” And generally, her naivety wasn’t even that annoying; Hermione instead found herself determined to protect her at all costs.

And then there was Marlene. Gorgeous, brash Marlene. Whereas Dorcas made heart-eyes across the room, if someone caught Marlene’s eye, they’d damn well know it. Simply put, she was a huge flirt.

Hermione was mildly alarmed to find herself falling victim to Marlene’s charms. They had been directed at her quite frequently this year; holding hands between classes, Marlene’s insistence on applying her lip gloss to Hermione’s lips herself, cuddling by the fireplace together. It was... confusing.

Hermione had never considered the possibility that she might like girls before. It was always universally understood that girls were beautiful. But thinking that didn’t mean you wanted to kiss them; it just meant you were human.

But Hermione wasn’t so oblivious that she couldn’t recognize and put a name to the heady sensation that overwhelmed her in Marlene’s presence. That went beyond friendship.

Hermione wondered how much of this she could pin on that stupid book Remus had given her. It was, indeed, extremely comprehensive. Certainly for the times. In addition to heterosexual pairings, the text and graphics extended to gay and lesbian couples as well. With so much information at her disposal, she found herself questioning her assumed heterosexuality more and more.

To make matters more complicated, Marlene was both almost impossible to read and also hooking up with Sirius.

Hermione worried that she was simply projecting when she got the feeling that Marlene was attracted to her. Behaviors that could be read as flirting could also just as easily be explained away as Marlene being Marlene. She was certainly more demonstrative and free with her affection than any of the other girls.

Tonight, they were having a bit of a holiday party. Well, Gryffindor house on the whole was having a party. It just so happened that the sixth and seventh years had teamed up to orchestrate the whole affair. Booze was snuck in, mistletoe was hung, and ugly Christmas sweaters were encouraged.

James had taken it upon himself to deck the boys out, claiming they were early Christmas presents. Remus squeezed in next to Hermione on the sofa, looking resigned in his “Too Lit To Quit” jumper. The embroidered Christmas lights even glowed, undoubtedly a handy bit of charm-work that could be attributed to James.

“Enjoying the party?” Remus asked, taking a swig of his firewhiskey.

“Immensely,” Hermione returned dryly as a piercing laugh cut through the air from behind them.

“Budge over!” Marlene appeared and without giving them any time to accommodate her request, plopped herself down on Hermione's lap instead. She was wearing an oversized jumper that read “When I Think Of You, I Touch My Elf.”

Marlene wound her arms around Hermione’s shoulders and pressed her cheek to her springy curls. “Merry Drunk I’m Christmas,” she slurred happily.

“I can see that,” Hermione’s sides shook with laughter as she tentatively rested her hand on Marlene’s leg.

“Oy! Longbottom! Stop trying to steal my girl,” Sirius admonished with an easy grin as he, too, piled onto the couch. He, of course, chose to mirror Marlene by curling up on Remus. Not about to be left out for a second, James materialized out of thin air and clambered onto Sirius, nearly causing them both to topple.

“Oof,” Remus let out a pained groan. “Prongs, you’re about as light as a pile of bricks. Any chance I can convince you to relocate for about ten seconds? I was about to head to bed anyway.”

Twin cries of “Nooooo Moony, stay!” emanated from the two boys, James tucking his chin over Sirius’s shoulder in order to weaponize his legendary puppy dog eyes.

Remus’s resolve wavered for a few seconds, which was all the time required for James and Sirius to extract themselves and him from the couch, pushing him towards the drinks table.

Hermione giggled as she heard James’s booming voice proclaim, “The night is still young, my friends. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we DIE!”

“James, we’re just going on break. And it’s not even tomorrow! That’s next week.” Remus could be heard laughing.

“Those boys,” she murmured to Marlene, who merely hummed in response.

“Okay, time for bed,” Hermione decided. “Up you go.”

As she tucked Marlene into her bed in the dormitory, Hermione’s heart gave a little tug at the sight of that perfect heart-shaped face squashed against the pillow.

◓

They were all hungover to varying degrees the next day. Hermione, having suffered the least with the notable exception of Lily, went down to breakfast alone. When she came back up to the common room, she abruptly found her feet glued to the floor.

Hermione groaned in exasperation, realizing she’d walked under one of the charmed mistletoe sprigs. Glancing around the room, she hoped to find Remus. She felt momentarily relieved to see him sitting adjacent to Sirius and Marlene, who were wrapped up in each other. Before she could entreat him to assist her, Marlene had noticed her predicament.

She laughed, abandoning Sirius and skipping over.

“Oh, kitten,” she purred. “And you were so careful.”

Hermione flushed, feeling utterly tongue-tied as Marlene slipped her hands under Hermione’s flowing curls and angled her own face up to meet Hermione’s in a brief but wicked kiss. Hermione vaguely registered Sirius cat-calling them.

Marlene withdrew slowly, pausing to meet Hermione’s shell-shocked gaze. Her lips twitched in an impish grin, as she bit her bottom lip. Hermione’s heart took another dive, swooping in joy and terror.

◓

That night, she mustered up the courage to crawl into Marlene’s bed, resolved to laying her cards out on the table. Working her way up to it, they talked about holiday plans; Hermione was still considering whether or not to return to London for break. Marlene tried to entice her into going home so that they could meet up at the Christmas market.

Finally, Hermione took the plunge. “Listen, Mals. I—”

But Marlene cut her off, “Don’t.”

Her easy smile had been replaced with wide-eyed concern, her forehead wrinkling, “I love you. You’re one of my best friends. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

After an uneasy pause, Hermione recovered herself enough to say, “Of course! Of course we can” with a pained smile.

“Sorry, I just remembered I’ve left my, err, something downstairs.” She scrambled out of bed.

“Hermione, wait!”

“Just be a mo'!” Hermione slipped from the dormitory and down the stairway.

Remus was there, curled up in an oversized armchair with a book. He took one look at her and set it aside, straightening his legs and opening his arms. She tucked herself up underneath his chin, blinking back tears.

Once she'd calmed, no more hiccups or hitched breath, Remus invited her home for Christmas.

“I want you to meet my mam,” he explained. “Will you come?”

“Of course I will. There’s no one I’d rather meet.”

He tightened his arms around her briefly, and they both found a little something more to look forward to that Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to @magaera for their comment this morning. They inspired me to whip this new chapter out today!
> 
> As always, please comment if you're enjoying this little romp. I certainly am! It's such fun to watch the characters and their relationships grow the more time I spend writing.
> 
> xo Asa


	13. Chapter 13

Remus sat cross-legged on the bed, tapping his quill reflexively as he labored over a potions essay. Even as he threw himself into the work, he wondered why he was bothering. He’d taken these classes and written these papers before, even if it had been twenty years. It wasn’t like he was going to go out and become an auror or a healer or a curse breaker. He’d never been able to hold a steady job in his life, outside of his one-year tenure as a Hogwarts professor. Why bother now?

The assignments and exams were, at least, a distraction. One which he needed badly this spring. He was... a bit of a mess. Given his relentless focus on schoolwork, everyone assumed it was just _pre_ -pre-exam stress. It was not.

He was just dreading the spring. No, it was better to lose himself in the maze of brewing theory than think about that. Not one of his best subjects, after all.

To his dismay, Remus’s curtains were ripped open to reveal The Three Nuisances. Sirius crashed onto the bed, nearly knocking Remus’s inkwell over.

“Bloody hell, Pads!” Remus shouted as James and Peter flopped onto the next bed over.

“Oh knock it off, Moony. That essay’s not due for two weeks; put it away!” Remus clutched the parchment to his chest, still clinging to the idea of an entire night of stress-relief via schoolwork.

Not to be deterred by Remus’s sulking, the other boys began tossing around new prank ideas. It had been “far too long since we unleashed our collective genius upon the school” as Remus was informed.

“We could... clog all the toilets,” Peter squeaked.

“No.” Remus flipped the page of the potions textbook he’d refused to relinquish when Sirius had wrestled his parchment and ink away.

“Okay, okay,” Sirius used Remus’s thigh to create a drumroll. “Baby acromantulas. We could set some loose in the Slytherin common room!”

“No.”

“We could slip Snivellous a love potion. Make him fall hopelessly and very publicly in love with Mulciber,” James waggled his eyebrows.

“No.”

“But Moony,” Sirius whined. “It’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day, Moony,” James pouted. Even Peter was making sad eyes at him.

With a loud ‘thwap!’, Remus let his book slam shut.

“Okay listen up, you cretins. Here’s the plan.”

◓

February 14th fell on a Hogsmeade weekend that year. Madam Puddifoot’s would no doubt be packed to the gills, although not with any of them. Marlene and Sirius had predictably split in January. Peter had his eye on one of the Hufflepuff girls, but the Marauders had all agreed that having your first date on Valentine’s Day was a bit of self-sabotaging.

Instead, James and Peter went to the Three Broomsticks to practice their half of the prank.

Remus rose before dawn for a run and then fell back into bed with Sirius that morning. After a good lie-in, they ate leftover scones from their midnight kitchen expedition and pulled out the record player Sirius had gotten last summer.

Remus laid face-up on the woven rug, feet kicked up onto a nearby bed while Sirius was tasked with switching out the records as they pored through his collection. Curating the perfect selection of songs was critical to their evening plans.

_Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere_   
_Angel_   
_Come get up, my baby_   
_Look at that sky, life's begun_   
_Nights are warm and the days are young_   
_Come get up, my baby_

Remus wagged his feet side to side, bopping along to the beat. “Mmm yes. Definitely yes.”

“Agreed,” Sirius grinned. “It’s not a party without a little Bowie.”

He swapped out records.

_I believe in you_   
_You know the door to my very soul_   
_You're the light in my deepest, darkest hour_   
_You're my saviour when I fall_

_And you may not think I care for you_   
_When you know down inside_   
_That I really do_   
_And it's me you need to show_

_How deep is your love?_

Remus bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Pads... why do you even have this record?”

Sirius let out a barking laugh, eyes twinkling, “Christmas present. You can blame James for this one.”

“I mean,” Remus continued. “It’s perfect. But it’s just so... cheesy!”

“Okay. Another one for the list,” Sirius smirked, “Let’s try one more?”

“Okay,” Remus sighed, closing his eyes and feeling utterly blissed out. He reckoned he could just in this moment forever.

_I'm an alligator, I'm a mama-papa coming for you_   
_I'm the space invader, I'll be a rock 'n' rollin' bitch for you_   
_Keep your mouth shut, you're squawking like a pink monkey bird_   
_And I'm busting up my brains for the words_

_Keep your 'lectric eye on me babe_   
_Put your ray gun to my head_   
_Press your space face close to mine, love_   
_Freak out in a moonage daydream oh yeah_

Remus sat up, rearranging so that his folded up legs covered his embarrassingly visceral reaction to this song. It was just... hot. It was rock and roll. It was transcendental. It was Sirius Black.

“More Bowie?” he quirked an eyebrow.

Sirius shrugged, “Is there really any such thing as too much?”

_Don't fake it baby, lay the real thing on me_   
_The church of man, love, is such a holy place to be_   
_Make me baby, make me know you really care_   
_Make me jump into the air_

Their eyes met as Sirius licked his lips. Remus’s breath hitched, and they both looked away.

“I don’t know. Your call on this one,” Remus’s heart thumped loudly, “It’s sexy, but it may not be quite the right mood.”

Sirius nodded, and they let the song play out.

◓

Dinner that night was a rousing success. James and Peter surreptitiously performed their modified refilling charms on the empty goblets across the tables throughout the meal. When students discovered mead instead of pumpkin juice, no one complained; they just whispered to one another gleefully. Some took it upon themselves to help out. By dessert, the whole hall was quietly tipsy.

Sirius and Remus had snuck the record player in, softly wrapped in James’s invisibility cloak. They set it up on a cleared space on the table. Remus whispered the charm while Sirius put the first record on.

As Golden Years began playing, Dumbledore rose from his chair with twinkling eyes. “It would seem that we are having a party. I believe it is time to, as the kids say, shake your tailfeather.”

The student body took that as permission to assemble in the open space separating the teacher and student tables. They danced. Remus swore he saw McGonnegal shuffling her feet in time with the music.

With things in full swing, the boys gathered together off to the side.

_I've been really tryin', baby_   
_Tryin' to hold back this feeling for so long_   
_And if you feel like I feel, baby_   
_Then, c'mon, oh, c'mon, whoa_

_Let's get it on_   
_Ah, baby, let's get it on_   
_Let's love, baby_   
_Let's get it on, sugar_   
_Let's get it on, woo hoo_

Remus sighed dramatically. “I can’t believe you all roped me into this again.”

“Moony,” James paused. “Look around. We didn’t even do anything this time!”

“I’m a prefect, James!” Remus quipped primly. “And this is an illegal party!”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You were literally the one who suggested it.”

“Tosser” he added on, as an afterthought. Remus just laughed, as they leaned against one another and swayed as one four-person blob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Several notes today.
> 
> 1\. I want to credit the last bit of banter. It was inspired by a tumblr post I saw on IG by @rascalsirius. 
> 
> 2\. Here's the music referenced, if you'd like to listen along:  
> Golden Years by David Bowie  
> How deep is your love? by The Bee Gees  
> Moonage Daydream by David Bowie  
> Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye
> 
> 3\. I've been thinking about titles. How do y'all feel about "You Only Live Twice" for this story? I've been listening to "You Only Live Once" by the Strokes a lot while writing this, and the idea came to me today. 
> 
> As always, I LOVE hearing from y'all. It definitely inspires me to write more. 
> 
> xo Asa


	14. Chapter 14

As Hermione sat in the Great Hall, she reflected on how much things could change in the course of only a few months. While early May in the Highlands brought forth the bursting blooms of daffodils and bluebells, the mood among the sixth year Gryffindors was still as cold and bleak as a winter snowstorm.

You’d have to blind not to see the chasm that lay between the Marauders. The first few weeks after The Prank, Sirius had been cast out. James refused to have anything to do with him, and Peter nervously followed suit. Now, as they approached three months, James seemed to have thawed; the three of them were inseparable as ever, just completely miserable.

Hermoine peered down the table at them, from where she sat wedged between Mary and Dorcas.

“It’s a real shame, isn’t it?” Dorcas murmured, following her eyes. “It’s not right seeing them like this.”

“I just hope Remus is alright,” Mary sighed. “I’ve barely seen him since, you know.”

Hermione’s lips tightened in a grimace. The year really had gone to shit. They’d known, of course, that this would happen. Well, she’s known about the first part anyway.

Hermione had been trying to wrestle out of him some sort of plan regarding The Prank. Remus had claimed that his memory was fuzzy regarding the actual timeline; all he remembered was that it had happened during sixth year, probably in the spring. He’d been surprisingly avoidant, changing the subject and refusing to make a plan.

Ultimately, Hermione had decided to let it play out. While traumatic for all involved, she doubted Snape would ever be satisfied until he learned (and nearly experienced) the truth of Remus’s condition. He’d been stalking them for years, trying to unravel that mystery, but it had ramped up in intensity that school year.

Even now, Hermione wasn’t sure she’d made the correct decision. Would it have been better to have a teacher intervene before Snape went into the tunnel? Or long before that; she might have expressed some concerns to James about whether or not Sirius would rise to the bait and let something slip.

Most of all, she regretted not having the additional context that Easter provided. Remus had been incommunicado, sort of as expected, when he went home for the short break.

When he didn’t return with the other students, they were all worried. She and the Marauders had exchanged concerned glances for three days, taking turns harassing the staff for information. Eventually, they were informed that Hope Lupin had passed away over Easter.

Remus returned with hunched shoulders, eyes red-rimmed and wretched. He rebuffed his friends’ attempts to comfort him, even Hermione and Lily. Instead, he seemingly disappeared, making himself almost impossible to find. She suspected he might be sleeping in the Room of Requirement, although the dark circles under his eyes suggested that might not be entirely accurate.

The full moons appeared to have been rough, as he wouldn’t let the Marauders accompany him. Instead, they shifted nervously in the common room; James and Peter appeared to have Sirius under watch during the full moon, lest he slip out to the shrieking shack uninvited.

After Remus’s last transition, a nasty gash had appeared running across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Hermione’s heart clenched, just thinking about it. The wolf was frustrated without its pack, lashing out at the human boy who separated them. 

Remus was nowhere to be seen now, of course. He hadn’t set foot in the Great Hall longer than it took to grab a piece of toast. It was something, at least.

◓

That evening, Hermione steeled herself. Remus being a wreck was understandable. Of course it was. But he needed his friends. All of them, including her.

She crept up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory, sliding into James’s bed and redrawing the curtains.

“Wha—Longbottom!” he exclaimed indignantly, shooting upright.

She arranged herself cross-legged on the bed to mirror him.

“I need your cloak.”

He stilled, searching her eyes. With a decisive nod, he leaned over, poking his head out to rifle through his trunk. He emerged with the silky drape of cloth.

“Just—take care of him, okay?” he asked quietly. “I wish we could. I wish he’d let us. But I’m glad he’s got you.”

She squeezed his arm, and left to track down Remus.

◓

She’d eventually found him lurking in the passageway behind the mirror on the fourth floor. He’d been reluctant, but she’d been persistent. Forced under the cloak, he’d silently fumed as she marched him out of the castle. He’d balked when she immobilized the whomping willow, hissing, “Is this some sort of sick joke?”

Allowing a little of her exasperation to bleed through, she gave him a little push from behind, “Just trust me, okay?”

Safely within the confines of the horrid little shack, she sat them down on the cot Remus laid on after every full moon as he waited for Madam Pomfrey.

“Well?” he asked bitterly. “Not sure what you’re trying to prove here.”

Hermione just shook her head and rummaged through her charmed backpack. Her hand emerged grasping a bottle of scotch.

“Sometimes,” she paused for dramatic effect. “You just need to get drunk. And smash some shit. And maybe, just maybe, talk about your feelings.”

◓

They were well on their way to totally and truly smashed. As it so happened, so was the room. While it was routinely subjected to the rage of a transformed werewolf, it was kept up every few months with repair charms. The last time had been fairly recent, judging by the lack of broken glass and torn pillows when they arrived.

That had changed quickly. Along with the spirits, Hermione had brought two crudely-made clubs. After the alcohol had warmed their bellies, they took them in hand. Hermione had been the first to scream, letting the primal cry tear from her belly. Remus had flinched back in surprise but quickly followed suit. They swung and yelled and raged against the small and large injustices they’d suffered in their lives.

Hoarse, they’d settled back on the ruined bed, talking with increasingly slurred and rasping voices.

“I forgave them so fast the first time, you know,” he laughed bitterly. “I even spent Easter with them. I just wanted so badly to be liked. To be loved.”

“Oh, Remus,” Hermione clumsily reached for him. He took a swig and thrust the bottle into her outstretched palm.

“I’m just so bloody angry. Angry that I couldn’t do anything to stop it. That we’ve been sent back in fucking time and I couldn’t even save my own mam.”

“I know,” she slurred. “But it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done—” she hiccuped “anything.”

He was quiet so long that she worried he’d gone to sleep.

“Perhaps not.”

◓

The next morning, Hermione rolled over, sleepily whacking him in the face. His cry of alarm prompted her own, and they awoke disoriented and horribly, gut-wrenchingly hungover.

Neither thought they could move without retching, so they avoided the inevitable for a woozy hour that felt like four. Eventually, they mustered the courage to trek back to the castle.

Hermione grimaced, taking a long swig of the offending alcohol that had knocked them on their backs.

“Nothing beats the hair of the dog that bit you, am I right?”

He just groaned, taking the bottle from her, “Let’s just get this over with so I can sleep for three days straight.”

She chuckled and they made their way back, leaning on each other for support.

By the time they’d reached the third floor, Remus was done. He retched behind a suit of armor and collapsed nearby, dragging Hermione down with him.

“This is where I live now,” he moaned. “My life began here. And it shall end here.”

Hermione giggled and pushed him, “You nutter. Five minutes. And then we’re getting up. Okay?”

“No,” he flung his arm up to cover his eyes. “I’m never leaving this... wherever we are. I like it here.”

“Listen,” Hermione sobered up, “Over Easter, I talked to the Longbottoms. They’re buying me a flat in London.”

“You’re having me on!”

“No,” she laughed quietly. “Anything to help them forget about the alleged affair.”

Remus made an indignant sound.

“It’s alright,” she waved it off. “Really, though. It’ll be great to have my own space. Although... I was rather hoping you might, I don’t know, move in with me? Unless you’d rather go home of course! But I—I’d really like it if you came with.”

“Are you serious?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she laughed. “Although I do see him. He and James just spotted us.” She waved limply.

“No, but really,” she continued, “I did mean it.”

“Hermione,” Remus spoke earnestly, “I would bloody _love_ to move in with you.”

She beamed at him all the way up until the boys reached them.

“Fucking hell,” James huffed, out of breath, “we’ve been looking all over for you two!” Sirius hung back nervously.

“We might... require some assistance,” Remus spoke primly from his position on the floor, lying in repose.

“James, help me up,” Hermione demanded, reaching for him. Her knees buckled, and he wound up sweeping her up into his arms.

Sirius approached cautiously, “Do you need a hand, Moony?”

“Padfoot, you great wanker. Give me your hand.”

As they ascended to the Gryffindor tower, James briefly squeezed her against his chest, “you’re a miracle worker, you know.”

She shrugged minutely.

“He needs you all. Don’t let him convince you otherwise. Not ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I've been putting off this chapter. Some big feels. 
> 
> Shout out to @iskiwayyo for their comment today; they're the only reason I whipped this out.
> 
> Next time our babes are going back to London! And let me tell you, I am SO excited for them. It's gonna be a heckin' good gay time. ✌🏻
> 
> As always, please comment and help me keep this thing rolling! 
> 
> xo Asa


	15. Chapter 15

While the rest of the student body had crammed into the train back to London, Remus had stayed behind for a few extra days. The first full moon of summer break landed on July 3rd that year, so it had made sense to transform at the Shack. Remus had written his father to that effect, except rather than just three days, he claimed to be staying all summer.

None of the staff thought to check with Lyall, and Remus took the Hogwarts Express by himself to London without a hitch.

Like the summer before, Hermione was waiting for him when his train pulled up. Of course, it was Kings Cross this time, not Paddington. But her thick curls danced just the same as she pounced on him.

They took a double-decker bus down Euston to Tottenham Court Road, turning off on Oxford. They made the rest of the trek to Soho on foot, Remus happily carrying his duffel, which was strapped comfortably across his back.

“Home sweet home,” Hermione sighed in pleasure, sweeping her arms out to indicate their new lodgings. It was an unassuming beanpole of a building, wedged between a strip club and a coffee shop.

The flashing neon sign next door read “LIVE GIRLS, NON-STOP STRIPTEASE” which Remus mouthed incredulously.

“Hermione,” he puffed as they ran up the stairs. “How on earth did you convince them to buy a flat in Soho? It was more gentrified in our time, but now? It’s essentially a red-light district.”

As she pushed open the door to their flat, she quirked an eyebrow, “Do you honestly think they care what I get up to? Besides, look around! It’s perfect.”

Indeed, it was lovely. Large windows facing the street bathed the living room in natural light. Adjacent to it lay a small kitchen that transitioned spaces naturally with the division of a breakfast bar. A small hallway led to two bedrooms of a comfortable size, and a surprisingly spacious bathroom.

“Now this,” Hermione sighed happily as she climbed into the clawfoot tub, “sealed the deal for me.”

Remus laughed and hopped in with her, tangling their legs between them.

“Breaking news: best hangout spot in London found in Soho bathroom,” Remus joked.

Hermione bit her lip and asked, “Do you like it then? It’s alright?”

He laughed, “Blimey! I’d say it’s more than alright. I mean, it might need some furniture. Unless we really do intend to just hang out in the bath.”

“Furniture sounds good. I’ve got a stipend. One of the perks of being the byproduct of an alleged affair. Particularly when the married couple is extraordinarily well off.”

Remus shook his head, “Christ. I do feel for them. But their response—can’t say I’m thrilled with it.”

“Eh,” Hermione waved her fingers through the air lazily, “Augusta and Frank Sr. are just muddling through life, same as the rest of us. And hey! If I don’t have to worry about money on top of everything else in our crazy life, I’m okay with it.”

◓

The next couple of weeks sped by, as they settled into their little piece of Soho. They scoured through charity shops, looking for second-hand furniture and odds and ends. One afternoon was devoted in its entirety to lugging a leather sofa from Piccadilly.

Remus had come home another day with an armful of houseplants, hugging them to his chest when she dared to remind him that summer break was merely two short months.

“They can come with me! It’ll liven up the dorms.”

She just shook her head in exasperation. She had to admit, though, once Remus had found them sunny corners to live in, that they did help the flat feel more lived in.

The overall aesthetic was... eclectic. They had collected a smorgasbord of items that had no right to go together, but somehow it worked. Remus claimed that the plants tied it all together. He wasn’t wrong.

They’d also settled into the familiar routine of training. Hermione had convinced him to join her for boxing with only minimal complaint. She’d shown him what she’d learned over the school year, so he wasn’t completely hopeless. And annoyingly, he flourished under Irene’s tutelage, quickly surpassing Hermione.

It had been a little awkward at first; Irene’s was a female-owned, -operated, and -attended gym. As far as Hermione knew, Remus was the only male pupil. But he’d quietly stuck it out, watching attentively and quickly implementing Irene’s curt feedback.

Marlene still joined a couple of times a week as well. The three of them often stopped for a coffee after class, Marlene entertaining them with stories of her family.

Her mother, originally from Tokyo, was a witch. Her dad, a Scottish-born muggle pharmacist. They’d met in London, fallen in love, gotten married, and had two children. It was only when Marlene showed signs of magic that her dad learned the truth. Her younger brother, Haru, was a bit of a menace. She was both devastated and delighted that he’d be joining them at Hogwarts in the Fall.

Between classes and furnishing their apartment, Hermione put her extensive knowledge of protective enchantments to good use. In addition to securing the flat, they crept down into the basement so that Hermione could perform additional, stronger wards meant to both deter visitors and prevent escape.

Along with some soundproofing, they hoped it would be a suitable place for Remus’s transformations that summer and after Hogwarts.

“I just hope everything goes smoothly next year,” Hermione worried. “Your boys really did accomplish something great, managing the animagus transformation so young.”

He cleared his throat, “While I think you’re all nuts for trying it, I will say that I have the utmost confidence in your abilities.”

“Flatterer,” she elbowed him. “I’m just hoping that I don’t have the same form as my patronus. It’s adorable—don’t get me wrong. But it doesn’t seem the most practical.” They laughed together, imagining a small river otter trying to keep a werewolf in check.

◓

Their new neighborhood was bustling with activity, and Remus and Hermione were industrious in their quest to explore its every nook and cranny. Well, perhaps not every nook and cranny. But certainly many of them.

They had anointed the pub around the corner, The Anchor, as their favorite local haunt. Hermione liked their bangers and mash and Remus liked sneaking furtive glances at the bartender, Kenji.

In Remus’s defense, there was a lot to take in, a lot to appreciate. Kenji’s prominent brow was frequently furrowed as he worked, taking orders, pouring drinks, and if you were very, very lucky, exchanging a few words. The sides of his head were shaved, leaving a swath of lilac down the middle, which he styled in a relaxed, swooping mohawk. Piercings adorned his face; both his eyebrows, his chin, and his ears, which displayed small gages.

“Oy! I’m over here, you tosser.” Hermione swatted him with a copy of The Evening Standard.

“Sorry,” Remus tore his eyes away. “What were you saying?”

“That your mooning about is making me sick. Just talk to him already!”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” he flushed.

“And why not?” Hermione leveled an assessing gaze at him. “He’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. Stranger things have been known to happen.”

He waved her words away, “And what about you? I’m unpleasantly surprised by your LACK of interest in anyone so far. We’re never going to get you laid at this rate!”

It was Hermione’s turn to blush, her umber skin flushing with heat.

“Are you... still holding out for Marlene?” he asked tentatively.

“No! God no,” she exhaled adamantly. “I don’t even know if I do like girls at all. She was kind of an outlier. It was just one kiss anyway. And I’m over it.”

Remus hummed in understanding.

“You, though,” she swerved back on topic. “I really think you should talk to him. Look! The bar’s not even that busy right now.”

He chanced a glance over; she was right.

“Go on then, Romeo,” Hermione gave him a little push. “Get us another round.”

He approached the bar, stomach churning. It’d been far, far too long since he tried to flirt with someone. He’d never been very good at it, anyway.

Remus caught Kenji’s eye nervously, clearing his throat, “Hi, um. Two more pints, please?”

Kenji grunted with a nod, and before he could move away, Remus continued. “I love your style, mate. Your hair especially. It’s proper gorgeous.”

Kenji’s brow furrowed as he turned to get the drinks. He returned, sliding the pints down. He paused, eying Remus up and down.

“You should check out my barber,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Here, let me write the address down.”

He scribbled on a napkin, continuing, “Ask for Billie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! London times. I just love the idea of them building a little home together in Soho.
> 
> I've definitely been doing a lot of digging into gay London in the 1970s. While I recognize that not everything is going to make sense time-wise and canon-wise, I've been trying to keep things fairly accurate when possible.
> 
> In addition to a spreadsheet with many tabs, I've also curated quite the Pinterest board. I've got a bunch of character inspo pins, including Kenji and a couple of other original characters that we'll be meeting soon. Really helps my process. 
> 
> Shout out to @Vienna926 for commenting! 💕
> 
> Have a great week y'all. Hit me with some love in the comments! 
> 
> xo Asa


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! TW for very brief misgendering this chapter. It's quickly corrected.

Remus scrutinized the napkin again, trying to make out the street number. Hermione tugged on his arm.

“I think it’s a bit further, Remus. Maybe another couple of blocks?”

They continued strolling, fingers interlaced.

“Still thinking about getting yours cut, too?” Remus asked.

“Maybe,” she mused, feeling the weight of her thick, long ringlets. “I could definitely use a trim. But I wouldn’t trust just anyone to do a curly cut right.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. We don’t really know anything about this guy, other than he can do a mohawk.”

“Not really my style,” Hermione giggled.

When they did find the barbershop, they were surprised to be directed towards a young woman at the back. She swept the cut hair away from her station, humming and dancing along to the radio. Her inky hair was shaved along the sides and back, the rest rolled into locs that had been tied together on top of her head, ends spilling out like a kraken reaching out of the depths of the sea.

Large, horn-rimmed glasses framed her open face, which she turned towards them appraisingly.

“Hi,” Remus smiled awkwardly. “I’m Remus. Kenji sent me your way.”

“Yes, I imagine he did.” She took his hand lightly, full lips curving into a sly smile. “Billie.”

“And your friend?” she raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who had hung back nervously.

“Hermione Longbottom!” Hermione blurted out, blushing furiously. Billie's lips twitched, but she didn't comment other than to say, "It's lovely to meet you both."

Remus impulsively nudged Hermione towards the chair and Billie swept a chair cloth around her shoulders. She buried her fingers in Hermione’s curls, lightly massaging her scalp. “Now then. What did you have in mind, love?”

“I don’t really know,” Hermione blinked. “I’ve sort of always had the same style. More or less. Not that I’ve never wanted to try anything else!” she stammered. “I just—haven’t even known where to start. What the options would be.”

Billie hummed, “Black hair is so beautiful, isn’t it? Just like the people, there’s such breadth. I can see how that might seem intimidating.”

Hermione made a small noise of agreement as Billie circled her with scrutinizing eyes.

“Tell you what. I’m going to make a suggestion. Now, it’s your hair and your body. You’re under no obligation to listen to me. But I think you would look absolutely darling if we took it up all the way to your nape. Shape the back and sides a bit, and create some more volume up top. Hmm?”

“Yeah, okay,” Hermione breathed. “Whatever you think.”

Billie got to work, plowing through the length of Hermione’s hair to create a shorter baseline to sculpt from. As she snipped with breezy confidence, Billie drew Hermione out of her shell. They talked about life in their little slice of London, Billie listing off recommendations for chippies, karaoke, and the best shops.

“Okay,” Billie smiled, offering a hand-held mirror. “What do you think?”

Hermione examined her reflection with a sharp intake of breath. “I look... _good_.” They both laughed, while Remus continued pretending to be engrossed by the latest issue of Woman’s Weekly.

Her hair had always expanded to create a bit of a halo around her frame. Cut short and shaped, the top flowed beautifully in bouncy curls that swept forward and created real body. Already, she felt lighter; without the weight of its old length, her hair sprung into pretty ringlets with ease. 

“Gorgeous,” Billie concluded, before turning to Remus. “Okay, lover boy. You’re up.”

“Oh,” Remus frowned. “Hermione and I aren’t together. I mean, we came here together...” He trailed off. “Right. Kenji, you meant Kenji.”

Billie bit her bottom lip, cheeks rounding as she grinned, “I’m guessing you’re looking for something a little more obviously queer? Maybe a little punk?”

“Yeah, I mean, spot on really. You’re... really insightful.”

She hummed, picking up her clippers. “Trust me?”

As Billie ran them across the side of his head, Hermione stepped out to grab a coffee.

“ _Please_ tell me you’re going to ask her out,” Remus didn’t waste a second. “She’s inexperienced with women, but she is the smartest person I’ve ever known, she’s gorgeous, and she is absolutely smitten with you.”

Billie chuckled, “You think I should, then?”

“Please,” Remus deadpanned. “Please, for the love of all that is good in this world, ask that girl on a date.”

When Hermione returned with three drinks, Billie invited them both to a party.

◓

Hermione quietly cursed Remus’s name as she climbed the stairs of an unfamiliar dwelling. He’d fucked off to the Potters’ for a week that just so happened to include the night of the party. Not suspicious at all.

As she scanned the room of strangers, she felt relieved to see Billie’s petite frame. By the time she had weaved through the crowd, Billie was alone with the exception of an absolute stunner.

Billie beamed upon seeing her, pulling her into a quick hug before turning to her friend.

“Elliot, this is the girl I was telling you about. Hermione, meet Elliot.”

Hermione shook Elliot’s tattooed hand, and the three of them chatted about the party, Billie pointing out different folks and making a few introductions. Eventually, Elliot said, “Well, I’m going to make the rounds. See you kids later,” and kissed Billie.

Hermione felt her stomach drop and mind whir, as she began to catalogue her fundamental misunderstanding of the situation.

When Billie asked if she wanted to get some air, she agreed reflexively and cursed herself. Was this a come-on? Or was she misreading things again?

They wound up taking a walk together, and Hermione felt her shoulders loosen with the steady cadence of Billie’s voice.

They circled back around to the flat, lingering across the street. Bille reached out to loosely entwine their fingers together.

“I’d really like to kiss you, Hermione Longbottom,” she murmured, leaning forward just the tiniest bit. Hermione’s heart beat wildly.

“But! Your girlfriend. You have a girlfriend,” Hermione protested, taking a half-step backward.

“Boyfriend,” Billie corrected.

“Oh my god,” Hermione stammered. “Fuck. Boyfriend! Of course. God, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Billie squeezed her hand. “He and I are polyamorous. We both see other people. It’s all on the up and up.”

“Oh,” Hermione breathed. “Of course. I mean, I’ve heard of polyamory before, but I haven’t met anyone who was before. At least, I don’t think I have.”

Billie chuckled, “Well, now you know at least two of us.” She tugged Hermione a little bit closer. “So how about it? Do you want to kiss me, too?”

“ _God_ yes.”

As Billie pressed their lips together, snaking an arm around her waist, Hermione practically melted. She felt so light-headed she worried she might float into the sky without Billie there to tether her. Instead, she grounded herself with the sensation of Billie’s soft lips, the brush of her fingers under the hem of Hermione’s blouse, and soon the heady slide of tongues.

Billie drew her head back, waiting until Hermione opened her eyes dazedly.

“Okay?” Billie asked, continuing to rub little circles on her bare skin.

“More than,” Hermione pulled her bottom lip through her teeth. “I think I’d like to do that again. I might never stop kissing you, actually. You’d better watch out.”

Billie laughed, both of them still smiling when their lips reconnected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I've been struggling to write this week. I definitely feel a lot more pressure in establishing original characters. I want to do it right.
> 
> So, what do y'all think of Billie & Elliot? 
> 
> Yes, Elliot's name is a tribute to Elliot Page, a true babe. He'll make another appearance next chapter in more detail.
> 
> Sidenote: we're well-over 1,000 hits! I'm blown away. I wasn't sure anyone was actually going to read this when I started it. 😅 
> 
> Thanks for coming on this journey with me. 💜
> 
> xo Asa


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief TW for minor drug use in the last section

With Remus back in London, he and Hermione returned to their regular patronage of The Anchor.

“I can't believe it,” Remus teased, “I leave for _one_ week and suddenly you’ve got yourself a girlfriend!”

“Hey, no labels,” Hermione still couldn’t suppress her smile even as she chided him. “We’re keeping it very casual.”

“Mmm,” Remus took a sip of his beer. “That isn’t what you said last night.”

“Remus, I was _smashed_! I can’t be held accountable the next day for the nonsense coming out of my mouth!”

He bumped their shoulders together. “I’ll keep that in mind next time you try and give _me_ shit.”

“I just can’t believe I ever thought I was straight!” she whispered incredulously. “Like, I’m probably still bi. But most _definitely_ on the sapphic side.”

“That good, huh?” he smirked.

“Remus,” she spoke slowly and deliberately, “When I tell you that eating pussy is a life-altering experience, I’m dead serious. And can we just take a moment to appreciate women? They’re bloody gorgeous. _All_ of them!”

“Ah, to be young and in the throes of a sexual awakening,” Remus sighed dramatically.

“You’re such a goof,” she laughed, leaning her head against him.

◓

Billie slid into and out of their lives with ease, frequently stopping by for a cuddle after work or stealing Hermione away for coffee. Hermione was pleased, although unsurprised, to find that she and Remus got on well, too.

It wasn’t uncommon to find the three of them squashed together on the sofa, making a Hermione sandwich. Billie had also taken to dragging both of them out to various parties and club nights.

On this particular evening, she’d finally talked them into going to the disco with her. It was only a fifteen-minute walk from their flat, so they got ready together and walked arm-in-arm.

“Bang opened last year,” Billie explained as they waited at a crossing, “It was absolutely groundbreaking. London’s never had such a large gay club.”

“How popular is it then?” Hermione asked curiously, fidgeting in the mini-dress Billie had lent her for the night.

“On a really good night, you might get over a thousand people,” Billie said proudly. “London was just bursting for a gay superclub like this. _Everybody_ turns out for it; it doesn’t matter what kind of queer you are.”

“Think we’ll fit in?” Remus laughed self-consciously in his short-sleeved button-down. Billie and Hermione had insisted on leaving the top five or six buttons undone, showcasing his lightly haired chest.

Billie fixed her steady gaze on him, “Honey, the last thing on your mind should be fitting in. There’s nobody like you, and you are a goddamn gift.”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, moving to start walking when the crosswalk changed, but Billie held them up.

“No, this is important. It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable being ‘out’ right now, but you—both of you—are extraordinary. I want to see you celebrated at your most authentic and owning that.”

“However,” she continued. “I do know how intimidating that can be. Putting yourself out there, saying ‘This is me.’ I think what most people overlook, though, is that everyone experiences that. Every person you meet has those insecurities, about how others perceive them. About how their company would be received if they approached someone.”

“How do you let go of that?” Remus asked quietly.

“You practice. Every time you go out, you take one action—and it can be small—that challenges your perception of yourself or your social comfort. Talk to a stranger, if only in passing. Wear something you didn’t think you had the guts to. Ask someone out. These things take bravery, but if you build a habit, you will emerge with unshakeable confidence in yourself based on actual evidence.”

“I would say ‘You make it sound so easy,’” Remus half-grimaced, half-laughed, “But you really don’t!”

“Hmm,” she hummed, “We’ll start tonight.”

“Merlin,” He whispered to Hermione as Billie led the way. “What have you gotten us into?”

“ _Me_?” Hermione whispered back incredulously, “This is on you, you wanker!”

“It’ll be fun!” Billie called over her shoulder, shimmying a little as they approached the club, music spilling out into the streets.

They fought their way to the bar, had a round of shots, and let the crowd sweep them onto the dance floor.

“Talullah is on tonight!” Billie yelled over the music.

“WHAT?” Hermione shouted back.

“TALLULAH!” she gestured to the stage.

_When you just can't break away (when you just can't break away)_   
_Oh, young hearts run free_   
_Never be hung up, hung up like my man and me, my man and me_   
_Oh, young hearts, to yourself be true_   
_Don't be no fool when love really don't love you, don't love you_

_It's high time now just one crack at life_   
_Who wants to live in, in trouble and strife_   
_My mind must be free, to learn all I can about me, uh-hmm_   
_I'm gonna love me, for the rest of my days_

In the press of bodies, they danced. Remus and Hermione moved tentatively at first but soon fell into the unrestrained rhythm of the crowd. Billie taught them a few moves like the shimmy, chicken legs, and some sort of pelvic thrusting that Hermione couldn’t keep a straight face through.

When Remus accidentally got absorbed into a group of guys next to them, Billie just laughed and turned into Hermione, capturing her lips as they continued moving to the music. Remus made good on his endeavor to crawl out of his shell inch-by-inch, making no effort to extricate himself from their bumping bodies. Hermione gave him a cheeky thumbs up after coming up for air.

_My baby moves at midnight_   
_Goes right on till the dawn_   
_My woman takes me higher_   
_My woman keeps me warm_

_What you doin' on your bed on your back? Ah_   
_What you doin' on your bed on your back? Ah_   
_You should be dancing, yeah_   
_Dancing, yeah_

As the night wore on, they weaved through the crowd for more shots, doubling up this time for peak efficiency.

When they later caught a glimpse of a sharp smile and eyes that had witnessed millennia, they weren’t sure if it was a trick of the strobing light, the alcohol, or their own paranoia. Surely _they_ wouldn’t be here of all places. And as soon as they appeared, they were gone before Remus and Hermione could fight their way over. Simply a reminder that the two of them were living on borrowed time.

◓

The following week, Billie invited them both to a party at her and Elliot’s flat. After a bit of a gap, she’d been accepted into UCL’s psychology programme.

Their flat was small but crammed with people. Billie broke off when she saw them, kissing Hermione and crushing Remus in a hug.

“Congratulations, babe,” Hermione smiled. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Billie beamed back, before turning to Remus. “Especially you, sickie. Hermione said you weren’t feeling so hot.”

“Yeah, just a little under the weather,” he grimaced, his bones aching as they always did before a full moon.

“Hmm,” she considered, scanning the room. “Oh, good! Come on, Elliot’s got a spot open next to him. You can hide away together.”

She guided him towards a sofa at the back, where Elliot had burrowed into the cushions.

“Hey stud, budge over,” she directed, leaning over to give him a quick peck before pushing Remus onto the couch.

“Okay, try not to have too much fun,” her eyes twinkled, “Hermione and I will be back round in a bit to check on you.”

Elliot’s fiddling hands were covered in both tattoos and rings. He had short, dark hair that swooped dramatically at the front, the rest covered by a beanie. His deep-set eyes and sharp jawline gave the impression of a brooding aristocrat, not dissimilar to Sirius and Regulus both.

“Wotcher, Remus,” he greeted him. “Not that I’m complaining, but why have you been left here with me?”

“Chronic pain,” Remus explained with a grimace. “Having a flare-up I’m afraid.”

Elliot hummed in sympathy, “I was thinking about rolling a joint anyway. Might help?”

Remus sighed appreciatively, “you’re a real mensch. That sounds brill.”

“Yeah? Good,” Elliot smiled shyly. “Okay, give me a few.”

As they passed the joint back-and-forth slowly, Remus felt some of his persistent aches fade into the background. He groaned in pleasure, shifting onto his side towards Elliot.

He reached towards Elliot, who had turned to mirror him.

“What’s the story behind these?” He asked, trailing his fingertips over Elliot’s knuckles.

“Hmm?” Elliot blinked. “The tattoos? Or the rings?”

“Either really,” Remus yawned.

“Well, I’ve had sort of a long-standing crush on Ringo. From the Beatles, you know. It’s so weird,” he laughed, hanging his head. “Because, like, Ringo is a total nerd. Definitely an oddball. But I just love him, and I’ve always loved his style.”

“That’s cute,” Remus’s lips curved into a lazy smile. “And the tattoos?”

“Well,” Eliott murmured. “You know I’m a tattoo artist. I’ve been drawing forever; started inking in lower sixth. There’s a certain sort of agency in making changes to your body that you chose. Especially as a trans man. Some of my tattoos have meaning; some are just aesthetic.”

Remus nodded, frowning contemplatively, “That sort of intentional body modification makes a lot of sense.”

Elliot bit his lip, looking up at Remus through lowered lashes, “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but your scars... they’re beautiful.”

“I—thank you?” Remus laughed a little self-consciously, glancing down at his marked forearms. “They have some painful associations. But I suppose aesthetically they’re at least interesting.”

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Elliot asked, starting to lean forward. Remus’s breath hitched, and he nodded.

“I would _love_ to tattoo you,” Elliot murmured, reaching out to trace alongside some of his longer scars. “If it resonated with you, I could envision some designs that play with the lines already there.”

“That sounds... really good actually,” Remus breathed. “I think I’d like to take you up on that.”

“Anything else sound good to you tonight?” he teased, continuing to trace Remus’s arms.

When Billie and Hermione finally made their way back over to the boys, they were still lazily making out on their end of the couch, limbs deliciously tangled.

Hermione tried to stifle a giggle, burying her head in Billie’s neck.

“I fucking knew it,” Billie grinned, utterly delighted.

She was met with a pair of good-humored middle fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!
> 
> Thank you so much to iskiwayyo, Vienna926, and Bitten_Button for their comments on my last update! I’ve been having sort of a rough time lately, and having people read this story and take the time to comment makes me so unbelievably happy.
> 
> This chapter features a tiny bit of queer London history in the form of BANG, which was indeed London’s first gay superclub, opening in 1976. Look it up! 
> 
> The songs referenced in this chapter are:  
> Young Hearts Run Free - Candi Staton  
> You Should Be Dancing - Bee Gees
> 
> Any guesses re: our mysterious disco-goer? We’ll definitely be circling back around to this plot point later!
> 
> As always, please comment & tell me what you think.
> 
> Xo Asa


	18. Chapter 18

Remus and Hermione sat at a high-top together, cheering as Billie climbed up on stage, squinting at the karaoke projector.

“Last night in London,” Hermione stirred her drink morosely.

“Buck up, lover girl,” Remus nudged her. “Billie’s already said to come visit her when you’re on break.”

“I know,” Hermione pouted. “But it won’t be the same. I just—I don’t want this summer to end, Remus.”

“I know,” he squeezed her hand. “Me either.”

Billie’s voice cut through the bar. She was looking towards their table, lips curved in a smile.

_I don't mind you comin' here_   
_And wastin' all my time_   
_'Cause when you're standin' oh so near_   
_I kinda lose my mind_

_It's not the perfume that you wear_   
_It's not the ribbons in your hair_   
_And I don't mind you comin' here_   
_And wastin' all my time_

Hermione buried her face in her hands, peering up through splayed fingers.

Remus hollered as Billie finished, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel before clapping. Billie pounced onto Hermione’s lap happily.

“Aw, sugar,” she purred, looking over at Remus. “I still can’t get over your gorgeous arms!”

Remus blushed, “Thanks. Elliot does some amazing work.”

He wasn’t sure he would have followed through on the tattoo, had Elliot not sketched out his vision. His scarred forearms had become the ‘cracks in the pavement’ from which indomitable vines and flowers sprung forth. Remus felt a renewed sense of hope and resilience every time he glanced down at them, his insides warming with pleasure.

The next song in the queue was Werewolves of London. Remus shook with laughter, trying not to look at Hermione.

_I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand_   
_Walking through the streets of SoHo in the rain_   
_He was looking for the place called Lee Ho Fooks_   
_For to get a big dish of beef chow mein_

Hermione coughed, trying to hide her own smile.

“Well, it’s getting late. I think we may head out?” she turned towards Billie with a question in her eyes.

Billie rubbed their noses together before facing Remus with an impish grin, “Yes, I’m afraid we have some other... plans tonight. A prior engagement shall we say.”

Remus laughed, “Go on, you two. Don’t let me keep you.”

“Okay,” Hermione smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”

“Bye Billie,” he murmured as she wrapped her arms around him. "Give Elliot a hug from me, yeah?"

“I'll give him more than that, doll,” Billie teased.

Sobering, she continued, “Take care of our girl for me, yeah?”

As they walked off glued at the hip, Remus called, “Don’t be late! Train leaves at 11!”

◓

The next morning, they met each other in front of their flat, gasping for air.

“What,” Hermione wheezed, “Are YOU doing back so late?”

“ME,” Remus panted as they crashed up the stairs. “What about YOU? Do you have ANY idea what time it is?”

“Remus Lupin,” Hermione growled, throwing open their apartment door. “It is TEN FORTY and you’re in last night’s clothes. What happened?”

“I may have gone to The Anchor last night,” he called as he skidded into his room and began throwing clothes haphazardly into his duffel. “Figured it was my last shot with Kenji!”

He heard a high-pitched squeal from across the hall. “REMUS! You sly dog!”

They collided in the living room, bags done and in hand. Hermione grasped him by the chin, turning his head to get a better look at his neck. Smirking, she remarked, “I see it went well.”

He started to groan in exaggerated pleasure, but quickly pivoted to gasping in concern, “Hermione! My plants!”

She smacked her forehead as he paced in front of the windows, panicking about which ones to take.

“Just pick one! Or even two! Remus, we _have_ to leave. We only have fifteen minutes!” She checked the clock. “Fourteen!”

“Okay, okay,” he grabbed two of the larger ferns, hoisting one in each arm. He glanced morosely at the rest on their way out the door, muttering, “Rest in peace.”

They hailed a taxi downstairs and crammed into the backseat together with their belongings. Remus palmed his plants off on Hermione temporarily in order to strip off his plaid flannel, tying it around his waist, leaving him in his jeans and a loose white t-shirt. His neck was, indeed, sporting a couple of dark bruises from Kenji’s mouth.

They looked at each other, Hermione still in her mini-skirt and cropped sweater, similarly disheveled, and they burst into laughter.

“We’re a right mess,” she scoffed, knocking their legs together.

“Utter disasters,” he beamed back.

Having reached Paddington, they began to push through the crowd, jogging awkwardly with their packs.

Upon hearing the clock begin to sound, they panicked. Remus foisted his beloved ferns onto a stranger, yelling care directions over his shoulder as they sprinted away.

“BRIGHT INDIRECT SUN,” he bellowed. “DON’T—OVER—WATER THEM!”

Crashing through Platform 9-3/4, the train had already begun moving down the tracks.

“Christ on a cracker,” Hermione breathed. “We’re going to have to chase it.”

“Best crack on then!” Remus tightened his grip on the strap slung across his chest. “Race you!”

Legs stretching out, their feet pounded on the pavement as they hurtled after the Hogwarts Express.

Other students began poking their heads out of the windows to watch them, shouting encouragement and jibes.

Remus heard familiar voices yelling, “Moony! You absolute tosser! Get your arse on the train!” and he couldn’t stop from smiling, even as his chest burned, shirt billowing out around him.

Hermione made the transition first, leaping through an open door. She held her arms out for his larger duffle, which he launched in her direction.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever moved this quickly before in his life, although he was afraid the train was moving to surpass him.

“You have to jump!” Hermione screamed. “Move it or lose it, Remus Lupin!”

Steeling himself, he leapt, catching the edge of the train and propelling himself around and through the open door. He tumbled onto Hermione, knocking her flat on her back.

Chests heaving, they broke into wheezing laughter.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she rasped. “You?”

“Dead chuffed you made me take up running, actually.”

Fresh peals of laughter sounded through the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates two days in a row! How about that?
> 
> This is a scene I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’ve always loved the idea of Remus & Hermione holding out for every last second they can this summer. Since, you know. Shit’s about to get real as soon as they leave Hogwarts.
> 
> That being said, I think we’re going to have some fun with seventh year. Next chapter is also something that’s been rattling around in my head for ages. 
> 
> Music referenced:  
> Just What I Needed - The Cars  
> Werewolves of London - Warren Zevon 
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think! I do read and respond and get warm, gushy feelings from each of your comments.
> 
> Xo Asa


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for homophobia, bullying & coming out this chapter.

The entirety of the seventh year class was obliged to attend a weekly ‘study period’ during which they were expected to revise for their N.E.W.T.S. In actuality, students quietly gossiped and flirted under the guise of joint revisions and textbook sharing.

Hermione’s potions textbook sat propped open in front of the three of them, as they took turns sneaking what they thought of as inconspicuous glances towards James and Lily.

“Do you think this is one of Dumbledore’s plots?” Hermione mused. “It’s just a little suspicious, isn't it?”

Remus nodded thoughtfully, “Now that you mention it, it seems obvious. The only true explanation as to why they would make _James_ Head Boy.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Moony,” Sirius smirked. “I think you very much earned your lack of promotion this school year.”

Remus leaned back behind Hermione, hissing, “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“Well, if Longbottom’s to be believed, I think you can blame old Dumbly-dore and his wily matchmaking ways—” he yelped as Remus swatted him.

“Shhhh,” Hermione hissed, “you’re missing it. Code Twitterpation! I repeat, Code Twitterpation!”

Remus and Sirius left off their squabbling to peer down the long table to where James and Lily sat together, reviewing the prefect patrol schedule. As James scribbled, bent over the parchment, Lily watched him, eyes slightly glazed over. She smiled when he spoke, running a hand absently through her long tangerine hair.

“Any day now,” Hermione predicted.

“I don’t know,” Sirius frowned. “I’m happy for him, really I am. But this is really throwing me off, y’know? Like, the universe is out of balance.”

Remus hummed in agreement, “You’re not wrong, Pads. There’s something profoundly strange about the way she doesn't storm away from him roughly once a day.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Now it’s only every OTHER day.”

Hermione snorted, idly flipping to the next page of her textbook.

“Oof,” Sirius winced, looking in the opposite direction to where Peter was attempting to secure a Hogsmeade date. It did not appear to be going well.

“Maybe I should help him,” Sirius considered, his eyebrows lifting higher and higher as he watched.

“Eh, let him suffer,” Remus suggested flippantly. “How else will he ever learn?”

“Moony, if it hasn’t happened by now, it isn’t going to,” Sirius told him soberly.

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Hermione chimed in slyly to Sirius’s annoyance.

“Okay, time for a rescue mission,” Sirius stood, clapping them both on the back. “If I don’t return, I’ve perished in the valley of unrequited love. Remember me fondly.”

Remus shook his head, smiling after Sirius.

“Careful, Lupin,” Snape hissed from the next table over. “Wouldn’t want everyone to know about your disgusting little crush, huh?”

Remus’s shoulders tightened and Hermione pressed her hand over his, squeezing. Snape and his slimy Death Eater friends had been harassing him since the start of term. Whereas before, there had been the mystery of his monthly disappearances, Snape had changed tacks and now primarily goaded Remus regarding his sexuality.

Snape had latched onto the changes to his appearance; the queer-coded haircut, the tattoos, his pierced nose, and now ears. Even the way he dressed had become a bit more expressive. Separately and especially together, they marked Remus as different. Add in an affectionate best friend or two, and it was enough fuel for a raging bonfire of homophobia.

Remus grit his teeth, ignoring their leering.

A crumpled piece of parchment bounced off his head, landing on the table in front of them. Hermione slowly smoothed it out, revealing a crude depiction of two stick figures.

Shaking with anger, Remus growled, “Fuck this shite.”

He climbed on top of the long table, widening his stance aggressively. Casting a quick amplifying charm, he took a deep breath and began.

“Please excuse the interruption, but I’ve got something to say. Time to clear the air, y’know?” The other students tittered in their seats, looking up at him in confusion.

“I’m gay!” he spread his arms wide. “I’m not taking the piss. I am really, _incredibly_ gay. Queer. It’s not a bloody insult, and I’m not ashamed of it either. I don’t give a flying fuck what you all think.”

He paused.

“And, just to be clear: No. I’m not perving on any of you ugly arseholes because I have something called STANDARDS.”

Turning to Snape, he continued, “Sorry, Severus, but you’re going to have to find someone else’s dick to suck. I’m not interested! And next time, you should really just try talking to someone face-to-face; passing notes is _so_ juvenile.”

Hermione was quietly falling apart with laughter as he stepped down. She restrained herself long enough to murmur, “Do you mind?” as she gestured towards his makeshift podium.

“Be my guest,” he shrugged helplessly. She clambered onto the table, still giggling.

“Um, hi!” Hermione waved. “I just wanted to say that, um, I’m bisexual! And I really, really like women. Unlike Remus, I'm definitely crushing on quite a few of you already. So, if you’re a girl and maybe you’ve thought about kissing other girls, you should come find me this year? I can also pretty much guarantee that I give better head than any of your ex-boyfriends.”

Remus was shaking with laughter as she hopped down, pressing her bookbag towards her. “Want to get out of here?”

“Let’s make a run for it,” she grinned back.

They hurried through the hall with some semblance of dignity, breaking into a run once they were clear of the doors.

◓

As they collapsed under the shade of a cluster of trees on the lawn, Remus wheezed, “I can’t believe I just did that. I can’t believe YOU just did that!”

“Hey, us queers have to stick together,” she caught his hand, squeezing. “Besides, I’ve got a good feeling about the girls at this school.” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

He snorted, “I see how it is.”

She grinned unrepentantly, “You’ve gotta risk it for the biscuit, baby.”

He sobered, “I just don’t want this to be something people feel like they can hold over my head, you know? It can’t be a dirty little secret anymore. Or even just an unspoken truth.”

“I know,” she murmured, nudging up against him. “I’m proud of you, love.”

He closed his eyes, leaning against her with a sigh. Their breathing evened out together and they settled back in the grass.

◓

As they made their way back to the common room that night, James intercepted them.

Throwing his arm over Remus’s shoulders, he asked, “Think I can steal him away for a bit, Hermione?”

At Remus’s small nod, she gave a little wave, “See you boys later!”

They walked together to an empty classroom, James chattering on about nothing as he propelled Remus along with him.

With their privacy secured, James quieted and gazed intently at Remus.

“Listen, mate—” he started. “I just want you to know. I mean, you probably already know. But just to be sure, I need to tell you that this isn’t going to change our friendship. You’re our Moony. Full stop.”

“Thanks,” Remus scratched at his arm awkwardly. “It’s... good to hear that. I really don’t want to make things weird. And I promise I haven’t been, like, looking at you lot in the showers or anything.”

James looked momentarily confused and then shook his head as if to clear it, his face breaking into a mischievous grin. “I mean, I don’t think that’s even that queer, Moony. Besides, I wouldn't want to deny you the sight of my gorgeous bum.”

He continued with dramatic flair, “I give you my express permission to appreciate its beauty on any occasion.” He threw in a cheeky wink for good measure, causing Remus to groan incredulously.

“Wow, Prongs,” he laughed. “The lengths you’d go to for a friend.”

“I’m selfless like that. Not at all narcissistically motivated.” James grinned. “It was wicked, by the way. How you did it. Nothing says ‘Power Move’ like telling the whole year you won’t suck someone’s dick.”

Remus shook his head, still smiling, “Snivellus is going to have to get his rocks off with somebody else.”

James shuddered, “Moony, please. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone!”

“Listen, though,” James spoke more seriously, “You can tell me anything, okay? I’m not going anywhere no matter who you fancy or what happens on the full moon. I’ve got your back. _We’ve_ got your back.”

“How’s he taking it?” Remus asked quietly.

James waved dismissively, “He just needs time. You know how Sirius is. He doesn’t like to be left out. Or change. Well, not that this is a change for you. But it’s an adjustment for him, you know?”

Remus chuckled, “Well, he’s only human. I don’t think any of us really like change. Creatures of habit that we are.”

“That’s our wise old man,” James grinned. “C’mere, you.”

He pulled Remus into a bone-crushing hug, fingers curling in the back of Remus’s jumper. Remus’s heart unfurled in relief as he ducked his head into his best friend's shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seventh year, here we go! Hope y'all liked this chapter okay. Coming out is always tough. I can understand Remus wanting to just put it out there and have done with it.
> 
> Next chapter should be lighter. Phew.
> 
> Also holy macaroni, we're up to 20k words! 😳
> 
> Big thanks to my readers and to Gradually_Watermelon and Bitten_Button for their comments since my last update!
> 
> xo Asa


	20. Chapter 20

On the whole, life didn’t change all that much for Remus and Hermione. Well, Hermione started disappearing on evenings that Remus had prefect patrol, returning happily disheveled.

Snape and Mulciber’s harassment had subsided, now that Remus had stripped their words of any real power. And besides, he was rarely alone these days. He found it difficult to slip away that fall, constantly finding himself in the company of a friend or two.

True to form, Sirius hadn’t addressed anything directly, but had closed ranks with the rest of them. He doubled down on his support and protection, keeping a watchful eye on anyone who walked past. If anything, he took more opportunities to sit on Remus’s lap, curl up next to him on the lawn, or even walk hand-in-hand between classes. He would twine their fingers together as if daring anyone to say a word.

It was... sweet, if somewhat of a predicament for Remus. His ever-present but largely dormant crush was re-surfacing against his will and better judgment. Unfortunately with their proximity and Sirius’s aggressively “fuck what anyone thinks” intimacy agenda, Remus frequently felt his body betray him. His heart fluttered with every casual touch. He became light-headed and breathless when Sirius murmured in his ear during class. It was just not on.

James and Lily, meanwhile, had taken the plunge. They had become rather inseparable actually. The Marauders had relaxed their group identity a bit, welcoming Lily and Hermione both. Even Marlene and the other girls at times.

On this particular evening, they had congregated in the common room, taking over the couch and armchairs by the warmth of the fire.

James lay with his head in Lily’s lap as she read, his feet tucked up underneath Remus. Sirius had snagged the far-side spot, slinging an arm around him. This, of course, left Hermione and Peter relegated to the armchairs, looking on in amusement.

With only a few short weeks until break, the conversation naturally turned towards their holiday plans.

“What’s the word then, Wormy?” James asked, bouncing his legs. “Can we have you for Christmas this year?”

“Sorry, James,” Peter looked regretful. “My mum said we’re visiting her sister in Belfast over break.”

“Bah,” James harrumphed, digging his toes into Remus. “Moony?”

“Well, Hermione and I-” he started, but was quickly interrupted by groans on either side of him.

“Hermione got you all summer,” Sirius pouted, fixing his glare upon her. “We need Moony time, too, y’know.”

“Yeah, sharing is caring.” James agreed with a pointed look.

She held up her hands defensively, “Hey, Remus is his own person, free to make his own choices.”

“It’s not my fault he likes living in London with me,” she added cheekily, earning herself a flying pillow to the face. “Oof!”

“Well, what’s it like living with the Longbottoms anyway?” James asked. “To tell you the truth, I’ve always been sort of afraid of Frank’s mum.”

“That’s true,” Sirius chimed in. “It’s the hat. That vulture is designed to intimidate.” James shuddered and Peter nodded furiously in agreement. They turned to Hermione expectantly.

“Hermione,” Lily glanced up from her book with an arched eyebrow. “I hope you know that you don’t have to submit to any of their questioning. Completely uncivilized, they are.”

“That okay, Lils,” Hermione fiddled with her sleeve. “I don’t really mind. But I actually don’t live with them anymore. Not since the beginning of summer. As you might imagine, it’s been sort of... complicated.”

“Oh,” Lily marked her spot and closed the book, frowning. “So where are you—both of you—staying then?”

Remus coughed awkwardly.

“Well,” Hermione paused. “I have a flat. It’s in Soho. Two bedrooms, one bath. It’s a nice set-up for the two of us.”

“Let me get this straight,” Sirius spoke in a dangerously calm voice. “You’ve been living alone, completely unsupervised, in the middle of London, since last summer.”

They both shrugged in confirmation.

“And you didn’t invite us?” James continued incredulously, sitting up raptly. Remus moved as if to escape, but both Sirius and James leapt on him. “Oh no you don’t, you traitorous bastard!”

“What happened to the Marauders' Code, Moony?” James grabbed his shirt collar.

“Yeah! Do you have any idea the kind of mischief we could get up to in Muggle London?” Sirius demanded, as he continued to weigh down Remus’s right side, knee digging into Remus’s thigh.

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t tell you,” Remus’s wry tone was betrayed by his shortness of breath. “I have a very GOOD idea of what you lot would get up to.”

Meanwhile, Lily had turned to Hermione with an appraising eye. “So you don’t really have Christmas plans, then?”

Hermione shrugged. “Not specifically. I want to see my—well, not girlfriend exactly. But something like that.”

Lily nodded, tugging on James to pull him back towards her and off Remus. “Did you hear that, babe?” she asked pointedly.

He opened his mouth and then shut it firmly, shaking his head guiltily.

“Your two friends,” she nodded towards Remus and Hermione, “don’t have Christmas plans.” His mouth rounded into an ‘O’ as she continued, “Don’t you think your parents would just love to have more of your friends visit?”

“Cor! You're brilliant, you are,” he exclaimed, kissing her elatedly. He turned his attention to Remus and Hermione, steepling his fingers. “Okay, here’s the plan. Everyone comes home with me for Christmas. Lily, I’m hoping that by now I’ve talked you into coming for a few days to meet my folks.” He turned his puppy dog eyes towards her, and Sirius picked up the thread.

“And after Christmas, we can all visit London for New Years! You have room, right?” he smiled hopefully at Remus, who looked helplessly towards Hermione. She shrugged but still appeared rather charmed by it all.

“Okay,” Hermione countered. “Christmas at the Potters. Then we take a brief pause so Remus and I can ready the flat. We can meet back up in London for the last few days of break. Deal?”

James and Sirius looked to each other and then back at her, “Deal!”

Lily’s lips twitched into a smile, “What _have_ I gotten myself into?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter of pure fluff. I'm so excited to get the gang together! Next time will feature much Christmas break shenanigan-ing. Hope y'all are ready!
> 
> Let me know what you think about the last few updates!
> 
> xo Asa


	21. Chapter 21

A few days before Christmas, the five of them took the Hogwarts Express to London and then another train out into the countryside. James and Sirius took turns pointing out landmarks and entertaining them with little stories as they whizzed past. Some were true, but mostly they were talking out of their asses.

James hired a taxi to take them the rest of the way, and they piled in on top of each other. The Potters lived on the edge of the village, just far enough out to lend them a bit of privacy and space. They had a large plot that was shaded with alder trees. When you drove up through them along the brick driveway, a Georgian manor house was revealed. Very Jane Austen. Hermione was instantly charmed by the vine-covered brick and bright, numerous windows.

Fleamont and Euphemia, as they introduced themselves, were lovely. They had been older when James was conceived, and they doted on him and Sirius both. James tried to play it cool as he introduced them to Lily, but the fact that he was practically quivering in excitement rather ruined the effect.

“So lovely to meet you, Lily,” Euphemia winked. “Obviously we’ve not heard a word about you. It’s all very sudden.”

Lily giggled, “Yes, I don’t think James even knew I existed the past six years.”

“Very funny, guys,” James rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quite stop himself from smiling.

“So do I get the grand tour now or later?” Lily asked, looking around with interest.

“Oh, sign me up, too!” Hermione linked arms with her. “Your home is absolutely gorgeous.”

Fleamont beamed, “I think a tour could be arranged. You’ll both be wanting to see the library, of course.”

“At least let them put down their things, dear,” Euphemia suggested, looking at him fondly.

“Right!” James chirped. “Let me show you to the guest room.”

Sirius tugged on Remus’s sleeve. “Bunk with me?” he asked hopefully.

“Okay,” Remus hedged. “But I’m instituting quiet hours.”

“But Moony, it’s the holidays!” Sirius whined.

“Yes,” Remus said slowly, “And I, for one, would like to catch up on sleep. Maybe read a book.” 

He shrugged, folding his arms, “those are my terms. Take them or leave them.”

“Fine,” Sirius muttered begrudgingly. “Quiet hours. Now let’s go! I got some more posters up after you visited last summer! You’ll love them. Very glam rock.”

◓

The next day, Fleamont made pancakes in the morning and then Euphemia took over the kitchen. Remus and Hermione volunteered to lend her a hand and were set to work mincing peppers and garlic, toasting spices, and chopping vegetables.

Meanwhile, Fleamont led an expedition to pick out a Christmas tree.

“A little late for it,” he admitted, “But we thought you kids would get a kick out of it.”

“Tosh,” Sirius teased. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Fleamont scratched his head. “Now, Sirius,” he began as James snickered.

“Dad, you're such a bad liar,” James slung an arm around his father. “But let’s do it! Lily hasn’t seen much of the village yet. Maybe we can stop off for Jammie Dodgers.”

The house emptied out, and Remus and Hermione guiltily exchanged relieved glances.

“Nice to have a bit of peace and quiet, isn’t it?” Euphemia smiled knowingly. “I love my boys, but they’re a handful. Fleamont included if you can believe it!”

“I think I can see that,” Hermione smiled to herself, pouring the toasted cumin seeds into a mortar.

“Do you mind a bit of music?” Euphemia asked, wiping her hands on her apron. With their assent, she turned on the wireless. A combination of muggle and wizarding Christmas music was on.

_“Thank you for tuning into Harvey Hour. I’m your host, Mortimer Harvey. Next up we have Madame Bletchely’s latest holiday single, just in time for Christmas.”_

By the time the rest of the family had returned with a tree, the house was inundated with the divine smell of curry. Everyone convened for an early dinner, passing chutneys and raita around as they chattered happily about their afternoons.

Sirius and James took point on decorating the tree that evening, doing a surprisingly passable job. The tree they’d chosen leaned a bit but was full and bushy—and now, covered in string lights and homemade ornaments.

As Hermione looked around the room, she felt warmth blooming in her belly at the sight of this family. She wished Harry could have seen them like this, cuddled up on the couches, teasing one another good-humoredly, and trading a tin of biscuits around. Sirius and Remus had curled up together under a blanket, Sirius having half-burrowed up underneath his chin. James held Lily’s hand on his knee, smiling like a loon. And Euphemia and Fleamont stood near the tree, swaying together to the music. Hermione tucked her knees up to her chin and closed her eyes, letting the music and chatter wash over her.

◓

Remus and Hermione had taken their leave after Boxing Day, heading back to London. They had had good intentions about getting the flat in order right away, but teenage hormones had gotten the better of both of them.

While they hadn’t been in contact during the fall term, Billie had apparently been keeping her break open “just in case” the opportunity to see Hermione arose. They tumbled back into bed together like the past four months hadn’t even happened, all sweet, open-mouthed kisses and clever tongues.

Remus had taken advantage of their proximity to gay bars and clubs to try and pull most nights. While he didn’t particularly like going out by himself, he rationalized that it was necessary in his current predicament. Being infatuated with your best friend could be... challenging. Particularly when that friend was as handsy as Sirius was.

The Friday their guests were scheduled to arrive, he and Hermione finally got to work. They threw out the grisly remains of Remus’s plants, tackled the built-up dishes, changed the sheets, and dealt with the encroaching mold in the tub.

Freshly showered and thoroughly exhausted, they collapsed on the couch together.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t try and meet them?” Hermione yawned.

“Eh,” Remus settled even further back into the couch cushions. “Lily’s capable. She’ll make sure they get here alright.”

Hermione nudged him with her outstretched toes. “Excited? Nervous?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, mulling it over.

“I think both,” he responded slowly. “I know everyone’s been cool so far. But there’s still a part of me that’s worried about them seeing me here, or seeing other queer people together.”

He laughed softly, “I mean, Bang is... an experience. And that’s still the plan for New Years', right?”

“Yeah, Billie says it’s the place to be. Although we obviously could switch it up,” she chewed on her bottom lip. “But I really think they’ll be fine, Remus. Honestly, I think they’ll love it. Being here, being with you.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. Hermione pursed her lips, considering.

Carefully, she asked, “Remus... are you _sure_ sure Sirius isn’t queer? I know you said he wasn’t, but... that was before. And seeing you two together, I just—”

She trailed off, watching him as he squirmed.

“I’m not... one hundred percent sure,” he admitted. “There was a moment over Christmas. I was sure he was going to kiss me. His face was so close,” he paused. “But he was just grabbing something from behind me in the kitchen.”

He bit his fingernails, “I think I’m just reading too much into things. He’s always been affectionate. This isn’t even a stretch.”

“Alright,” she reached to squeeze his hand where it rested along the back of the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I had originally meant for Christmas & New Years to all be one chapter. But it got away from me! So, I'm giving y'all part one now, and part two as soon as I finish it. 😅
> 
> Big thanks to GrimmlyHallows and BellaCappa for their comments on the last chapter. 
> 
> I posted about the fic on TikTok - very curious if any of y'all end up reading it! Let me know in the comments.
> 
> xo Asa
> 
> P.S. THANK YOU for 100 kudos! This makes me so happy. 💕


	22. Chapter 22

Their friends were seemingly star-struck by their flat, even though the tour lasted approximately three minutes, concluding in their spacious bathroom.

“I’m glad you’re pleased,” Remus said wryly, watching as Sirius and James climbed into the tub just as he and Hermione had that first day. “I spent probably an hour scrubbing that thing this morning.”

“Beautiful work, my dear Moony,” Sirius proclaimed grandly, inspecting the porcelain.

“Hmm yes, yes,” James agreed. “That’s our Moony! A proper host.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I suppose we could continue the tour in the neighborhood instead. There’s a bit more to see than in here.”

“Can we start next door?” Sirius asked, waggling his eyebrows as he alluded to the strip club that remained their closest neighbor.

“Absolutely not!” Lily swatted at him, muttering “Perv” under her breath. Remus snorted, “Good to have you here, Lils.”

“I’m doing my best,” she said, shaking her head. “You would not believe the time I had getting these two here. They’re like children in a candy shop.”

“Oh, I think I can imagine it just fine,” he replied drily.

“Okay,” Hermione clapped twice. “Let’s get moving! I think our first stop should be that good charity shop on Lexington.”

“Twist my arm,” Lily grinned. “Lead on!”

Remus breathed a sigh of relief as the afternoon passed without a hitch. Sirius had tugged on his arm several times as he spotted passersby he found particularly stylish or cool, “Moony,” he’d hissed. “Did you see their hair? _Very_ Ziggy Stardust!” 

Sirius and Lily had both taken to the local charity shops like fish to water. Lily veered a bit more vintage, drawn to soft cardigans and silk scarves. Sirius, of course, was thrilled by band tees and leather. James was just happy to be there, gassing everyone up and happily submitting to whatever outfits people wanted to dress him in.

They stopped by the Anchor on their way home, figuring that beer and pub food was as good a plan for dinner as any. As the group slid into a booth, Remus hung back as he shook off his jean jacket.

“I’m going to go grab us a round of pints,” he said, glancing over to the bar where Kenji was working. Hermione smirked, settling in against Lily.

It was still fairly early, so it wasn’t too crowded up by the bar. Hermione watched with interest as Sirius kept stealing glances over to where Remus was leaning on the counter. He and Kenji were flirting, it was obvious even at a distance.

Sirius’s shoulders had tensed as he watched them intently, abandoning any pretense of not paying them any mind. She stuck her foot out and nudged him from across the table, nodding towards the bar, “Do you want to see if he needs a hand? Might be a bit of a handful.”

He jolted, eying her a bit guiltily but the tension in his shoulders eased.

“Right you are, Longbottom,” he murmured, mouth turning up in the barest of smiles. “Thanks.”

He smoothly inserted himself next to Remus at the bar, introducing himself with all the apparent friendliness of a viper.

They returned shortly thereafter with pints for all, Sirius tugging Remus into the booth next to him. He casually draped an arm around the back of the booth, playing with the top of Remus’s jumper. Hermione insisted on picking up the next round.

◓

On New Year's Eve, they got ready together at the flat. Lily was a tad nervous, having heard about yet another attack on Muggles over break. Voldemort was rising quickly. Hermione wished she was able to relate more honestly to her as a muggle-born, but under the cover she’d been given, that wasn’t possible.

James did his best to lift everyone’s spirits, insisting that they choose his outfit for the evening. He was perfectly open to a little smoky eye, as well, which Lily applied inexpertly. Standing back, she cocked her head.

“Well,” she began. “It works. It’s not perfect, but I think that somehow makes it better, don’t you agree?”

“I do,” Hermione smirked, “Very sexy in a messy sort of way.”

“Move it, Prongs,” Sirius grinned, swooping into position. “Me next! Maybe just eyeliner though?”

Lily’s shoulders shook with laughter, “Okay, if you insist.”

Hermione had acquired a compact of glittering powder, which she applied liberally to herself and Remus. She’d talked him into borrowing a pair of her fishnets, which he wore under tattered, rolled-up jeans.

“C’mon, Remus,” she wheedled. “The crop top. Just for me. Just this once.”

He squirmed uncomfortably as she continued dusting his eyelids.

“CROP TOP CROP TOP,” James started to chant, Sirius joining in immediately.

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, pushing Hermione away, “But no more glitter!”

◓

They walked to Bang, meeting Billie and Elliot around the corner. Billie practically leapt at Hermione, sweeping her arms around her in delight. They spun around in a tight circle together.

“It’s New Year’s Eve!” Billie beamed. “1978’s going to be a good year! I can feel it.”

Hermione laughed, pulling her closer, “Aw, babe! Saving a midnight kiss for me, I hope?”

Remus grinned at Elliot, shaking his head. “It’s sick how sweet they are, don’t you think?”

He shrugged, worrying his bottom lip coyly, “I think Billie might throw me out for being a hypocrite if I agreed with you.”

“Well, congratulations then,” Remus laughed, tugging him into a hug. “C’mere, man.”

“Love the scruff,” he murmured in Elliot’s ear. “Very sexy.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Elliot laughed breathlessly. “Me too.”

They separated slowly, hands lingering on each other. Elliot trailed a finger down Remus’s arm, tracing his tattooed scars.

To his left, Sirius coughed pointedly, jolting them both.

“Wow,” Remus laughed. “Sorry, guys. This is my friend, Elliot. He’s the one I was telling you about; the tattoo artist.”

As Remus introduced the rest of their crew, Elliot stuffed his hands in his pockets sheepishly.

“Good to meet you all, but I’m actually just stopping by to say ‘hi.’ I’m meeting my boyfriend at another, much smaller party,” He said wryly.

Billie wrapped her arms around him, pressing up against his back.

“Appreciate you walking me over, love,” she purred. Briefly letting one arm go in order to wave at them, she addressed the group. “Hi everyone! I’m Billie. Hermione’s warned me about all of you.”

Her smile widening, she continued, “I think we’re going to get on _splendidly_.”

“God help me,” Lily muttered. “Not another one.”

“I’m afraid so,” Remus shook his head. “She’s an... experience.”

“Well, as ecstatic as I am to welcome another marauding spirit to our midst, might we take this party inside?” James was shivering all over. “It’s a little chilly in this get-up.”

Lily grinned, eying him up and down, “But it looks so good, babe.”

James flushed, pleased and uncharacteristically shy. He started attempting to dance. “I’ll look even better on the dance floor.” He waggled his eyebrows, swinging his hips to and fro.

Lily stifled a laugh, “That’s... debatable. But at least you’ll be warm.”

The group made their way through the line and into the pulsing club. Billie took the lead, directing them straight to the bar. They followed her like a train of ducklings. They made their way through a few rounds of shots, the three newcomers looking around in awe.

The club was jam-packed, every patron dressed up however they saw fit. Gaudy suits, leather harnesses, and sequined jumpsuits were all fair game.

“C’mon, you lot,” Hermione shouted. “Enough drinking; let’s DANCE!”

_Ra ra Rasputin_   
_Lover of the Russian queen_   
_There was a cat that really was gone_   
_Ra ra Rasputin_   
_Russia's greatest love machine_   
_It was a shame how he carried on_

Out on the floor, they took cues from their neighbors, bodies pressed up against one another. Remus found himself sandwiched between Sirius and James as they let loose. James had thrown his arms around Remus’s neck, bopping about as Lily tried to match him from behind. Sirius pressed up against his back, resting his hands along Remus’s sides, where fishnet turned to soft skin. He shivered, delighting in the feeling of those beautiful hands.

_You mean I've been dancin' on the floor darlin'_   
_And I feel like I need some more and I_   
_Feel your body close to mine and I_   
_Move on love it's about that time_   
_Make me feel - mighty real_   
_Make me feel - mighty real_

_When we get home darlin' and it's_   
_Nice and dark and the music's in Vienna_   
_Still your hot and you kiss me back and it_   
_Feels real good and I know you love me_   
_Like you should_

They were sticky with sweat by the time midnight approached. Lily had tamed James’s dancing to the best of her ability. She was grateful for Billie’s good example. Sirius had been delighted to recognize some of the music played, singing his heart out. Remus felt like his heart might actually explode, surrounded by his little family that night.

Of course, his warm feelings quickly dissolved into panic as the countdown began. The crowd around them chanted and Remus's eared roared with the mounting tension. 

_10, 9_

James and Lily were smiling dopily at each other. He looked helplessly around to Hermione only to find her smirking at him from within Billie's arms.

_8, 7_

She rolled her eyes and bumped into him. He took an off-kilter step sideways into Sirius, who steadied him with firm hands.

_6, 5, 4_

His breath caught as Sirius reached up to thumb along his jawline. Remus’s skin felt impossibly alive, charged and itchy and rapturous all at once.

_3, 2, 1_

Zeroing in on the sensation of Sirius’s fingers, he closed his eyes and let the world around them fall away. He felt one hand trace along to the curve of his neck, while the other slid around his back, tightening to pull him closer.

Soft lips pressed against his as cheers of “HAPPY NEW YEAR” rang throughout the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, big chapter! @Aggiesaurus and @BellaCappa, I hope you're happy. 😉
> 
> And just in time for NYE in our time!
> 
> Drop me some love in the comments if you're feeling it. 
> 
> xo Asa
> 
> P.S. If you're listening along, these are the two songs:  
> Rasputin - Boney M.  
> You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) - Sylvester


	23. Chapter 23

The Room of Requirement had had two main configurations over the past few years, but these days they primarily asked it to provide space to train, rather than a private den in which to plot.

Sweat dripped down Remus’s neck as he side-stepped and leaned and inevitably flew across the room as one of Hermione’s Knockback Jinxes landed. He hit the wall hard, grunting in pain.

“Fuck me,” he groaned.

“Had enough?” Hermione smirked, twirling her wand as she walked over.

“...Five minutes,” he lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe off his face. “I think I can go again. I just need a little breather.”

“Hey, you’re doing better than me,” she slid down on the wall next to him. “I have neither your reflexes, nor stamina.”

“You know, when we set out to save the world, I didn’t really envision you taking away my wand and making me dodge spell after spell.”

She giggled, knocking their shoulders together. “I’m terrible like that.”

“You’re telling me,” he sighed.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Hermione cast a teasing glance his way.

“So,” she began.

“So,” he deadpanned.

“New Years, huh? That was a little while ago now.”

“Indeed it was,” he looked away, twiddling his thumbs.

“Well,” she wheedled. “Status update? If you two still haven’t boned...”

He flushed, chewing on his bottom lip. “I mean, yeah we kissed that night. But maybe it was just as friends?”

At her incredulous look, he continued, completely flustered, “Nothing else has happened! We never addressed it. He just acted like it was completely normal to kiss your gay best friend on New Years!”

“You’re telling me literally nothing else? Not a word?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but yeah. If anything, he’s a bit less cuddly this term. I mean, it’s Sirius. It’s not like he’s totally hands-off. But still.”

Hermione groaned, smacking herself in the forehead. “My god. Remus Lupin, you are CLUELESS!”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Not an inaccurate statement, most likely. But may I ask why you think so?”

She sighed, squaring up to him. “Okay hear me out on this. In the past two and a half years that I’ve seen you interact, he is almost _always_ the initiator. Cuddling, holding hands, sleeping together. He’s been making moves for years, even if neither of you recognized it at the time. Now, he’s made a very obvious move, very intentionally, and kissed you.”

She paused, eying him significantly. “Ball’s in your court, baby. You need to get off your ass and take some initiative.”

“Hermione, there’s still a non-zero chance that he’s _not_ queer—”

She cut him off, shaking her head. “Remus! That man is about as straight as instant ramen. He’s got big gay feelings for you. And even if I’m wrong, if Lily’s wrong, and he _is_ straight—he wouldn’t be uncomfortable with you making a move on him. He’d love it!”

“Ugh, I hate it when you’re right,” he muttered.

“So, like, always?” she teased.

“Let’s just get back to work,” he shook his head in amusement, brushing himself off as he rose.

◓

True to character, Remus continued sitting on his hands, perpetually waffling between maintaining the status quo and taking a leap of faith.

As he sat in the common room sandwiched between Hermione and Lily, he let the party drown out his thoughts. Gryffindor had just beat Hufflepuff, and the whole house was raging in delight.

At the center of it all, James and Sirius beamed as they basked in the moment of one of their last quidditch matches, and a victory at that.

“All I’m saying is it’s a damn shame for the League that we’ve decided to become champions of justice instead of pro players,” James proclaimed, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, the League will mourn this loss for years to come,” Sirius leaned on James’s shoulder, still grinning from ear to ear.

Hermione’s eyebrows flew up, as she processed this new information. “Hold on,” she said. “I CANNOT be hearing this right. Do you mean to tell me that you’re becoming Aurors?”

Upon their confirmation, she continued, “Law enforcement? The wizarding police? Magic cops?” She cackled with laugher, as Lily hid a smile.

“Oh shove off, Longbottom,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Your Negative Nancy-ing has no place in this realm of celebration!”

Remus snorted, “You heard the man, Hermione. They’re paragons of compliance.”

“Meanies,” Sirius muttered, huffing. “What’s so wrong about wanting to fight for what’s right?”

As Hermione began expounding on the problematic nature of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement specifically and systems of law and policing more generally, Remus took the opportunity to slip away.

With the full moon only a few days away, Remus’s bones ached and his temple throbbed. He disappeared up to the dorm for a joint, and a lie-down. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling.

By the time Sirius came upstairs, Remus’s pain had largely subsided. He sat up as Sirius burst through the door, making a beeline for him.

“Moony,” Sirius complained, plonking down next to him. “Why have you abandoned us?”

“Too loud,” Remus cast a glance at him pointedly. To his credit, Sirius lowered his voice as he continued, “But how can I sit on your lap when you’re not there?”

His heart beating a little faster, Remus forced his voice to remain unaffected, “Well, you could just stay here. Abandon your party for some cuddles.”

“I could be persuaded,” Sirius didn’t look at all displeased by the idea.

“Hmm,” Remus hummed, lifting Sirius’s left hand palm-up. Cradling it in his, he traced the lines there with the pad of his thumb. Sirius shivered, leaning his shoulders against Remus.

“I like it when you touch me,” Sirius murmured.

“Is that right?” Remus smiled, biting back a quip about never having known.

“Yeah,” Sirius purred, hesitating for just a moment. “I wish you touched me more.”

Remus stilled, caught on the precipice of this moment that could change everything. Mind clearing with resolve, he stepped off the edge.

He traced up Sirius’s wrist, “And how do you wish I touched you?”

Sirius’s breath hitched as Remus gently guided the hand he held up to his mouth, pressing slow, deliberate kisses to his palm.

“Like that?” Remus asked, looking up at Sirius through lowered lashes. Sirius blinked dazedly, nodding a little.

“Or maybe like this?” Remus enveloped Sirius’s thumb in his mouth, lightly scraping it between his teeth as he slowly released it.

Sirius groaned, head swimming in sensation, “Are you _trying_ to kill me, Moony?”

“Is that a yes? You liked that?” Remus asked innocently as he shifted Sirius up on the bed, covering his body with his own. He kept his weight partially off Sirius, resting on his forearms above him.

“Yes!” Sirius snapped when Remus paused above him. “Yes, I liked it. Yes, I want this. Yes, I want you.”

“Good,” Remus breathed, relaxing his head down towards him. “Because I’d really like to kiss you again.”

“Well, crack on already and stop teasing me,” Sirius growled, shifting underneath him and arching up into Remus.

“Cheeky bugger,” Remus muttered fondly, pressing their mouths together as Sirius wound his arms around Remus’s neck.

When their friends came up to bed that evening, James took one look at them, curled up together under the covers with bruised lips and hair in disarray, and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank Merlin,” he grinned. “I thought it was never going to happen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, finally! Let the wolfstar begin in earnest. 
> 
> Thank you Gradually_Watermelon and Aggiesaurus for commenting on my News Years chapter! Y'all are keeping me writing with your lovely comments.
> 
> Cross your fingers for me today. I'm coming out to everyone (not just the friends I know are safe) as non-binary today. Big woof.
> 
> xo Asa


	24. Chapter 24

Their little, well perhaps ‘little’ wasn’t the quite right word anymore, gang sat together in the common room. It had been weeks since ‘The Great Seduction’ as James had taken to calling it, having pestered them for details.

Remus sat in one of the tufted armchairs, with Sirius splayed across his lap. He lazily slid his fingers through Sirius’s silky hair, still marveling at the fact it was something he could comfortably just... do now.

He smiled over at his friends who had commandeered the couch. Lily, James, Hermione, and Marlene had all squeezed together in a tangle of limbs, giggling as they jostled each other. Peter sat in the armchair opposite him, squirming in his seat a little.

As Sirius turned his head to steal a lingering kiss, Remus’s heart warmed. He’d half-expected Sirius to want to keep their entanglement confined to dark cupboards or the privacy of their dormitory. But, that hadn’t been the case. They continued to cuddle and hold hands as they did before, and now they occasionally brushed their lips together at breakfast or stopped in the halls between classes for a quick snog.

In their early days of rolling around in the sheets, Remus had warned him that he would likely face discrimination and homophobia if he chose to live openly in this regard. Sirius hadn’t given a whit, growling that he could never be ashamed to be with Remus in any capacity. And fuck what anyone else thought. A predictably Sirius reaction, in hindsight.

Their friends, in general, were preoccupied with the hazy, but growing ever-closer, concept of ‘Life after Hogwarts.’

“I think I’ve finally settled it,” Lily leaned her head against James. “I’m applying to train at St. Mungo’s after graduation. I want to help people directly, and I think that’s the best way for me to do it.”

“Congrats, Lils,” Remus smiled warmly at her. “You’re going to be a great Healer.”

“Might need a little work on her bedside manner,” Sirius barked a laugh as she gave him the finger. “See? Perfect example. _Very_ poor form.”

“I’ll remember that the first time you ask me for help,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Careful, Padfoot,” James laughed. “I think you’ll want to be in her good graces. I hear the first year of Auror training is rough as all get out.”

“Hey, with you at my side, what could go wrong?” Sirius grinned.

“You do realize it’s incredibly unlikely you’ll be partnered together either in training or afterwards?” Lily asked wrly.

“Shhh,” James pressed a finger to her lips. “Let us have this.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” she shook her head in amusement.

“What about you, Peter?” Hermione asked, looking at him intently. “What are your plans after Hogwarts?”

He shrugged nervously, “I’m n- not sure, really. I think I’m going to move back home while I look at options.”

“I’m going to keep living at home, too,” Marlene piped up. “Cheaper that way, and they’ve got a floo connect. Plus I can bother my wee brother over the summer.”

"He'll hate that," she added smugly. 

“Are you going back to the Daily Prophet? I remember you did some interning there last summer.” Hermione asked.

“Cheers!” Marlene straightened in excitement. “I’m hoping to land an entry-level job there. They said it was likely; just can’t flunk all my N.E.W.T.s.”

“What are your plans, then, Hermione?” Lily asked. “You’d been undecided before.”

She shrugged, “I think I’m just going to look into working as a clerk somewhere for the time being.”

Lily drew back, appalled. “You’re joking! But you’re so talented! You’d be an asset to any profession.”

“Menial labor is still valid and necessary,” Hermione replied stiffly. “Besides, there’ll be time later. In the meantime, I want to focus on the war effort.”

James’s brows furrowed. “Not you, too. Moony’s already given us the same excuse. You’re two of the brightest minds at Hogwarts!”

“Part-time shop boy, full-time lover,” Remus joked, squeezing Sirius in an effort to dissipate some of the tension he had felt creep into his shoulders.

James jolted, checking the time. “Pads! We’re going to be late for practice. Let’s shake a leg!”

“Pete,” Remus nodded at him as Sirius unfurled from his lap. “You should go watch. I bet they’d appreciate it, and lord knows I’m not going to.”

Peter giggled and readily agreed, following the two boys out of the common room.

“Well,” Lily sat up and stretched. “I think Marlene and I are going to head to the library for revision. You two want to join?”

“Nah,” Remus sank further into the armchair. “I refuse to sink my whole weekend into that cursed exam.”

“Well,” she clucked, eying him in disapproval. “I suppose if you’re not planning to put your results to good use...”

He stuck out his tongue, fishing for the novel he’d abandoned earlier.

“I think I’ll stick around, too,” Hermione smirked. “Like you say, we don’t exactly need them.”

Remus smirked as Lily heaved a sigh of annoyance, muttering “stupid, brilliant idiots” under her breath.

Finally, they’d all left the common room, leaving the two of them alone. Remus and Hermione waited a few more minutes to be safe, and then they made their way to the dungeons.

They’d been trying to cross paths with him for weeks now without success, and they were running out of time.

Lurking behind a nearby tapestry, they waited to see who would emerge from the Slytherin common room. Snape and Mulciber passed by, speaking in hushed whispers.

Finally, they saw a lone figure emerge through the stone passage. He was small even at seventeen; the type of boy who could blend into the shadows as he pleased.

He paused, turning his grey eyes towards them as the tapestry rustled. He slipped inside the nook, leaning against the wall opposite them.

“My, my,” he leered. “What would my brother say, if he knew you two had been skulking about down here for weeks?”

“Regulus,” Remus said, straightening his shoulders. “We needed to speak with you. In private.”

“This should be interesting.” Regulus folded his arms across his chest.

“Listen,” Hermione frowned at him. “There may come a time when you need our help. When that happens, come find us. We can help you, and we won’t involve anyone else.”

His brow furrowed when she slipped him a small piece of parchment as they passed by.

“Wait,” he said, grasping Remus and pulling him closer. He paused. 

“Just... take care of him,” Regulus murmured. Remus met his gaze and nodded curtly.

◓

Remus and Sirius lay in bed together, feeling satisfied and blissfully lazy. Sirius shivered as Remus ran a finger lightly over his bare skin.

“That was new,” Sirius yawned. “I’d never done that before.”

Remus’s lips curved into a smile, “Good, right?”

“Very,” Sirius snuggled into Remus’s chest. “We should do it again sometime.”

“I think that could be arranged.”

They lapsed into contented silence, Sirius’s breath evening out to the point that Remus thought he was asleep.

But then he spoke again. “It’ll just be the two of us, huh?”

“Hmm?” Remus hummed.

“After graduation,” Sirius explained. “I’m still a bit bummed that Prongs is leaving us for Lily. But at least we’ll have each other. It’ll be nice, right? Falling asleep and waking up like this every morning?”

Remus shifted, feeling more awake and more uncomfortable with every passing second.

“Pads,” he began, throat closing up. He cleared it. “You do know that I live with Hermione, right? We have a flat together.”

Sirius tensed.

“Yes,” he spoke slowly. “She offered you a place to stay when you didn’t want to go home, I get that. But we can live together now; I have that money from Uncle Alphard. You wouldn’t even have to pay rent.”

Remus shook his head, extricating himself from Sirius in order to sit up.

“But I want to keep living with her,” he explained. “Hermione and I get on really well; we make good flatmates. Obviously you and I will see each other all the time, but I think it’s better that we’re not living on top of each other. You know?” He couldn't very well include the biggest motivating factor; that he and Hermione _needed_ that privacy and built-in time together for what lay ahead.

Sirius turned his head away, lips pinching.

“She’s a bad influence on you,” he seethed. “The Moony I know would never give up on a real career.”

Remus bristled. “You have no idea what it’s like, Sirius. To be a werewolf. The discrimination we face.” He grit his teeth. “Don’t you ever wonder why I’m the first student at Hogwarts with this... affliction? That they had to plant the whomping willow and set up these special accommodations? It’s not like there haven’t been other werewolf children with magical abilities.”

Sirius stared at him mutely, and Remus forced himself to breathe. “What’s waiting for us out there... what’s waiting for me, it’s not going to be pretty.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sirius bit out. “About that, or- or that you never intended to live with us after Hogwarts. You let me believe- ”

Remus rubbed a hand across his face, wearily. “I wasn’t sure that you’d understand. And I didn’t mean to lie to you. I didn’t realize you thought everything was settled.”

They avoided eye contact awkwardly. “Are we okay?” Remus whispered.

“I think- I think I need some time,” Sirius scrambled off the bed, throwing on some jeans and a sweater. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Remus still sat frozen on the bed, feeling sick to his stomach, when James poked his head in. He frowned, seeing Remus.

“Moony, where’s Padfoot?”

Remus shrugged, “We had a bit of a... row. He left.”

“Oh,” James sat tentatively next to him, picking up a jumper off the floor. “Are you cold? I would be cold if I were you.”

Remus snorted, pulling it over his head. “Ta.”

“Do you want some help deciphering the great mystery that is Sirius Black?” James asked, smile flickering. As Remus explained what had happened, he nodded encouragingly and tried to translate some of the hurt and insecurity he knew Sirius was harboring.

“Okay,” James squeezed his shoulders. “I think you know what to do. Go get him, tiger.”

“Thanks, Prongs,” Remus impulsively pulled him into a brief hug, before setting off to find Sirius.

He checked several of his known sulking spots, eventually finding him tucked up on a window sill overlooking the lake.

“Hey,” he rocked on his feet, hands tucked into his pockets. Sirius glanced over at him, putting out his cigarette.

“Hi.”

Remus clambered onto the ledge, arranging himself cross-legged in a mirror image of Sirius.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner,” he said. “You’re one of the people I care most about in this world. And I don’t like upsetting you.” He rubbed his temple. “Of course, I wound up doing that regardless. I’m sorry.”

Sirius exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry, too,” he murmured. “I want- I want you to be able to tell me things. I don’t want you to feel like you have to lock things away.”

Remus’s chest clenched for every secret, big and small. “I want that too,” he whispered guiltily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheeee! Another chapter! Next time should be our last one at Hogwarts. I can hardly believe it!
> 
> Thank you for the kind comments Aggiesaurus, Vale_fer99, Aleique, and frogtopia_waow4.
> 
> I did indeed come out (as non-binary) and it went well! I was surprised by how many people I haven't spoken to in years, that took the time to express their support.
> 
> As always, drop some love in the comments if you're enjoying this fic! I write for y'all, and I love hearing from you.
> 
> xo Asa


	25. Chapter 25

With only a few days left until their N.E.W.T.s, everyone was studying furiously. They’d set up camp in the boys’ dormitory to get away from the rest of the student body. Lily was muttering quietly to herself, flipping through notecards. Sirius and James had spread out on the floor, comparing Potions notes, brows furrowed in concentration. Marlene and Peter quizzed each other on Herbology, listing characteristics of each unusual plant or fungus. Hermione found herself reading the same line over-and-over, mind elsewhere. She glanced over to Remus.

He sat with Sirius and James, under the guise of “helping” them revise, but instead seemed to be doing his best to distract Sirius. He’d undone the top few buttons of his school shirt and was currently sucking on a liquorice wand. As his cheeks hollowed, Sirius looked up at him incredulously.

“My god, Moons,” he choked. “Is that strictly necessary?”

Remus slipped the candy from the mouth, smirking. “Maybe.”

Sirius shook his head, a light flush spreading to his cheeks.

“I’m trying to _study_ ,” he hissed. “Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to accomplish the past seven years?”

Remus shrugged playfully, “I’ve acquired a new hobby since then.”

Sirius groaned, pressing his hands to his face.

“Remus,” Hermione bit her lip, stifling a giggle. “Fancy a break? I was thinking about taking a walk.”

“Oh thank Merlin,” Sirius sighed, slumping against James. “Get him out of my sight, Longbottom!”

She saluted him and pulled Remus to his feet. “Let’s go, trouble. You’ve had your boyfriend bothering privileges revoked.”

He pouted, but allowed himself to be drawn from the room easily enough.

They heard their friends call after them “Bring back snacks!” and “Brain fuel me, baby!”

Giggling, they thumped down the stairs and climbed out of the portrait hole.

“So, I take it you finished the transformation the other night? When it stormed?” Remus asked.

“Yes! Finally,” Hermione heaved a sigh. “I was worried it was never going to happen.”

“And?” Remus asked impatiently. “Are you indeed a very cute aquatic mammal?”

“No!” Hermione beamed, bouncing on her toes as she turned towards him. “I mean, thank god! Can you imagine?” She giggled. “Why don’t I show you later? It’ll be more fun.”

“Alright,” he grinned and they continued to the seventh floor.

“We’re finally doing this, huh?” Remus asked wryly, as they stopped in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

“Oh you know...Our last week. I figured it was time.” Her eyes twinkled.

Remus laughed, bumping into her. “Yeah, I think it might be. You want to do the honors?”

Inclining her head, Hermione walked past three times, pushing all thoughts except for ' _I need the place where things are hidden'_ out of her mind. A door materialized, and they entered the Room of Hidden Things.

“Wow,” Remus breathed, gingerly stepping further in. Broken furniture had been piled into leaning towers. Thousands upon thousands of books lined bookshelves and created precarious stacks around the room.

“I take it we shouldn’t touch anything,” he shivered, eying a handful of corked bottles whose contents shimmered maliciously.

“Probably for the best,” she agreed, gazing up at an enormous stuffed troll.

“What on earth?” he muttered, stopping in front of a cage with a five-legged skeleton locked inside. “No, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“Remus,” Hermione called, drawing him away. She stood in front of a pile of junk; on top sat a tiara. Remus leaned in, reading aloud the words that had been engraved so many centuries ago, “Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.”

“I hate to do it,” she murmured. “To destroy something of such historical significance.”

“I understand,” he squeezed her hand. “But it’s already been lost for so long.”

She smiled sadly. “It was stolen by her daughter, you know? Helena and her mother had a difficult relationship. She was insecure, being Rowena’s daughter, and thought that if she just had the diadem-”

“That she’d be the smart one. The worthy one,” Remus continued softly. “And instead, she was murdered. She and her mother never reconciled.”

“Fuck,” Hermione choked, half-laughing. “Maybe it’s always been warped. Even before Voldemort found it.”

“I think there’s a very good case for that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you patronising me, Remus Lupin?”

His lips twitched mischievously. “All I want is to avoid an all-out existential crisis while also getting this done today.”

“You’re so... practical,” she complained, producing a vial of basilisk venom. He shrugged.

Carefully, he lifted the book it rested on, and deposited the tiara gently onto the stone floor. Hermione crouched down and tipped the vial carefully. The diadem hissed, pain and suffering streaming out of it in a suffocating cloud. When their minds cleared, it was unrecognizable.

“Christ,” Remus laughed as they backed away. “Well, that’s one down.”

“Good proof of concept,” she agreed. “Destroying the horcruxes will be a lot easier than last time, having harvested the basilisk venom.”

As they neared the door, she stopped short. “Still want to see my animagus form?”

“Please,” he turned to look at her expectantly.

“Okay,” she took a deep breath and settled her mind. She morphed rapidly, brown eyes becoming amber, face elongating into a heavy-jawed snout. Dark skin turned to tawny fur, and she settled onto four large paws. She prowled towards and around him, muscles visibly bunching under her thick skin.

“Holy shit,” he breathed as she transformed back.

“Not too shabby, right?”

“Hermione... you’re bloody gorgeous. Scary as hell, but gorgeous.”

She beamed. “Won’t exactly blend in well in most circumstances, but at least I’ll be able to help out during full moons.”

As they made their way to the kitchens, Remus shook his head. “I should’ve guessed it. A lioness.”

She snorted. “It’s super clichéd, but it still feels right.”

He smiled softly at her. “A Gryffindor through and through.”

◓

“Stop fiddling,” Sirius chided, straightening his robes for him. “You look great, Moons.”

Remus hummed, lacing their fingers together so that he couldn’t continue to fidget. They walked to the Black Lake with their friends, excitement and nerves in the air. James was sneaking glances at a small stack of notecards, muttering to himself. Lily had linked arms with Hermione and Marlene, looking like she was on cloud nine.

Golden chairs had been set out in rows by the lake, filled with the families of the seventh year students. At the front, the staff had erected a small stage for the graduating class to walk across.

Hermione’s breath caught as she was transported back to Dumbeldore’s funeral. Golden chairs set in this very spot, facing a marble table. She shook her head, grounding herself in the feeling of her two friends’ arms and the chatter around her.

Hermione found herself next to Remus, as they lined up alphabetically by last name. Minerva called them one-by-one to the front, the line moving haltingly forward. As they stepped onto the stage, Remus glanced out at the sea of people. His heart felt full upon finding the familiar faces of Euphemia and Fleamont sitting beside Lily’s parents. He blinked, startled to find his own father nearby. Lyall watched the proceedings intently.

Remus felt his guts churn nervously and continued to scan the crowd, skin itching. His heart frosted over in alarm as his gaze caught on _them_. They had assumed the shape of a woman with ebony skin, but those same glittering eyes. They were staring straight at him, lips curling in a facsimile of a smile. He glanced over at Hermione in terror, and she nodded imperceptibly; she’d seen them, too. He wondered if this was the form they'd chosen when taking Hermione to the Longbottoms. When his gaze darted back out, they were already gone. Just an empty seat. He barely registered Hermione’s name being called, and then his.

He found his seat at the front dazedly, leaning against Hermione. By the time his head had cleared, Lily and James had stepped up to the podium, obligated as they were to give speeches at Head Girl and Boy.

James’s leaned a little sappier than Lily’s, but they both contained a message of hope and a call to action. That together, the next generations of witches and wizards might rise up against prejudice and hatred and build a better world. Remus blinked back tears, love blooming in his chest for his friends. He hoped to god it was enough; that they might live to do more with their lives than die.

Once the ceremony had completed, the students scattered to their families. Lily grabbed Hermione, insisting that she meet her parents.

Remus braced himself and cut through the crowd, looking for Lyall. His father stood stiffly with Professor McGonagall, nodding as she spoke. As she turned to leave, Remus sidled over with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hi, dad,” he said, smiling awkwardly. “Thanks for coming.”

Lyall fixed a stern look upon him. “The school sent an invitation.”

“Sorry for-” Remus trailed off. “I’m sorry I haven’t written.”

Lyall’s posture softened. “It’s okay. It’s... good to see you, son.”

“Yeah,” Remus felt some of his tension leak away.

“Your mam would be... so proud. I hope you know that.”

“Thank you,” Remus murmured. He started as an arm slid around his waist.

“Mr. Lupin!” Sirius stuck out his other hand. “Good to see you again, sir.”

“Sirius,” Lyall said gruffly. “You’ve grown since I last saw you. Both of you.”

Sirius nudged his hip into Remus. “Mind if I steal Remus for a few minutes? James and I’s folks want to say hi.”

“Go on,” Lyall jerked his head. “I should be going.” He stuck out his hand. “Congratulations, Remus. I hope you’ll come visit when you can. Your friends are always welcome as well.” He nodded at Sirius.

“Thanks, Dad,” Remus felt his chest tighten. “I’ll... try and do that. I’d like that.”

“Okay?” Sirius whispered lowly as Lyall walked away, Remus took a deep breath and relaxed, turning into Sirius’s arms.

“Better now,” Remus murmured, wrapping his arms around him.

As their graduating class floated off across the lake together in the boats that had first brought them to Hogwarts, Remus leaned against Sirius contentedly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione in the boat next to them, skimming her hand in the water.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Sirius whispered, running a hand across his back. Remus smiled, warmth pooling in his belly.

“Just how lucky I am. To have you. You specifically, and you as in all of you.”

Sirius chuckled, his hold tightening. “Sap.”

“Don’t even. You love it.” Remus knocked their knees together.

Sirius paused before whispering. “I do.”

“Oy!” James complained from behind them. “Lily, how come they get to be all romantic? What about me? What about _us_?”

“In your wildest dreams, Potter.” She laughed, but placated him with a kiss. He pushed his glasses back into place, grinning from ear to ear.

“My lady hath granted me a kiss!” he proclaimed loudly, eliciting jeers of “Shut it, Prongs” and “Gross!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd onto the real world! I can't believe we've already made it through three years in this story.
> 
> I'll be taking a very short break to flesh out the rest of it and outline future chapters. But I'll be back soon!
> 
> Thank you to voidwxffles and MelhekhelMurkun for commenting. 💕
> 
> If you're enjoying, please leave a comment below! I've actually made some adjustments to the story based on things y'all have said.
> 
> xo Asa


	26. Chapter 26

Life seemed to have spiraled out of control the moment they left Hogwarts. Attacks on muggles, muggle-borns, and so-called blood traitors were on the rise. Dumbledore had approached many of them after graduation, imploring them to join the Order of the Phoenix.

They attended their first real meeting that night, stuffed into the Bones’ drawing room. Lily’s face was still tired and drawn, her grief plainly written across it. Her parents had died in a car crash only a few days after they had sat with the Potters at her graduation ceremony.

Beside her, James was a steadfast presence; she leaned into his side gratefully as the meeting finally wrapped up.

Dorcas nudged Hermione, murmuring as the room split, “Mary wrote that she made it abroad okay.” Hermione sighed in relief.

“Good... That’s good,” Hermione eyed flicked around the room nervously. Dumbledore had drawn Remus away quietly, disappearing into another room. “She’ll be safer in America.”

Dorcas shivered, nodding in agreement. “I’m glad she was offered a job that far away. I don’t know if she would have left otherwise.”

Hermione nodded distractedly, watching Frank make his way across the room.

“Hermoine,” He smiled. “Hey Dorcas! Would you mind if I stole my sister for a bit?”

“Go ahead,” Dorcas shrugged good-naturedly. “I’m going to go find Marls. She owes me a drink.”

“How are you?” He asked, peering at her. “I heard you were one of the fresh recruits.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, there’s running a little boot camp for us right now. Additional defense stuff; some real combat practice. It’s been interesting.”

“Now you know what my life’s been like,” he grinned. “Mad-Eye is a real bastard. Guess that’s why he has such a big hand in auror training.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I can only imagine. It must be ten times worse.”

“You can ask James and Sirius soon enough.” He nodded at them across the room. “Can’t imagine being in my first year of training and joining the Order at the same time. It’s got to be brutal.”

“I’m sure I’ll be kept abreast of the situation.” She said wryly, her skin starting to itch as Remus hadn’t returned yet.

“Listen,” Frank began, scratching behind his ear awkwardly. “I want to apologize. I know things must have been really awkward and... difficult for you the past few years with our family. I was hoping that I might be able to—not make it up to you exactly because I don’t think I could, but—”

Hermione blinked, startled by his apology. “Wha—?”

“Can I take you to lunch? Maybe next week? I’d really like to get to know you.”

“Um... sure,” she cocked her head at him. “If you’re certain..?”

“I am,” he said firmly. “You’re family.”

She flushed and looked away, just in time to see Remus emerging from the hallway. He returned practically vibrating with anger, a fierce set to his jaw. Dumbledore must have asked him about infiltrating werewolf packs, like he’d told her had happened in the first war. Remus had been adamant that it had been a waste, and he wouldn’t be reduced to his lycanthropy this time around.

“I’ll owl you,” Frank said, squeezing her arm. She nodded, glancing back at him.

◓

Hermione wiped sweat from her brow, muscles bunching in anticipation as she and Remus faced off from across the room. The basement had come in very handy indeed, for both full moons and their continued training.

Remus furrowed his brow, spindly fingers twitching. It felt wrong; dueling without wands. He grit his teeth, refusing to let himself mouth the words. ‘ _Locomotor Mortis_ ,’ he thought fiercely, directing the spell at Hermione.

Hermione’s eyes widened, and she ducked to the side, the spell instead smashing into the wall where she’d stood.

“Fucking hell,” Remus swore, “Am I ever going to actually land a hit?”

Hermione shook her head, coming to join him. “You literally did, twenty minutes ago. Besides, we knew it’d be tough. To cast without wands or words, it’s some of the hardest magic there is.”

Remus grumbled, taking a swig of water.

“You’ve got to head out soon, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, another lunch date with Frank,” she checked the time. “Should probably head up and shower at least.”

He hummed and they trudged up the stairs to their flat. “How is he, then? I never got to know him very well.”

She shrugged, peeling off her clothes as Remus turned to put on the kettle. “He’s... nice. I don’t know. You know he and Alice got married last year; He talks about her a lot.”

Leaving the bathroom door open, she stepped into the tub for a shower, drawing the curtains, and raised her voice so that it might carry.

“He asks about you so much, I had to tell him there was someone else.”

He laughed from the kitchen, calling back, “How’d that go?”

“Good!” she paused. “Well, except for the fact that now he wants to meet her.”

“That seems possible! Billie’d charm the pants off him.”

Hermione paused in the middle of lathering up, stomach tightening uncomfortably. “Remus, I—”

“What?” His voice was noticeably closer and comfortingly low, as he stepped into the bathroom and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. “Hermione?”

Her fingers clenched and unclenched around the loofa.

“I think I have to end it,” she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut. He was quiet for a long moment.

“Are you sure?”

“I just—it’s not safe for her. Continuing to be with me could put a target on her back. It _would_ put a target on her back. I can’t—”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she stood under the spray. “It’ll be better this way. Break up with her now, before things get any worse. Before I get her killed.”

“Oh Hermione,” Remus murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Remus. Really,” she tried to brighten her voice, turning off the water. She stuck her hand out of the curtain. “Hand me my towel?”

◓

They’d all crammed into James’s and Lily’s flat, stacked like double-deckers on the sofa or making do on the carpeted floor. Sirius had deposited himself in Remus’s lap, pulling his arms around him with the sort of familiarity that made Remus’s heart tug in pleasure.

Marlene cocked her head at James as he brought out a bottle of champagne. “James,” she spoke slowly. “I know I just got hired on for real, but I didn’t think—”

“Sorry, Marls,” Lily laughed, popping up behind him with a corkscrew. “We actually have some news of our own!”

“Yeah, sorry for being so mysterious,” James grinned. “We just wanted to surprise you all at the same time.”

“You’re pregnant,” Sirius gasped.

“No, Sirius. I’m not—” Lily started.

“James, did you finally get that new broomstick?” Remus asked, just to be a dick. He felt Sirius’s belly shaking with soft laughter under his fingers. He smiled into Sirius’s t-shirt.

“WE’RE ENGAGED!” James burst out, beaming like an idiot.

They all fell upon him and Lily with overjoyed hugs and cheers of ‘Congratulations!’

“So, it finally happened,” Hermione joked as they settled back down with their flutes of champagne. “He really did it.”

Lily scoffed, “He did not. I’ll have you know that _I_ proposed to _him_!”

James rolled his eyes, still smiling. “A technicality. We’d talked about it before, but she beat me to the actual proposing bit.”

He kicked Sirius. “ _Someone_ wasn’t able to take me ring-shopping in time!”

Sirius ducked his head, eyes crinkling. “Well, I might have been paid off.”

James gasped, “TRAITOR!”

He turned to Lily, “And _you_! That’s so... devious!” His voice lowered, taking on a gravely quality. “I like it.”

She smirked, pulling him in for a kiss. “Save it for later, Potter.”

Peter audibly gagged, eliciting giggles from everyone else. James leaned over, swatting him good-naturedly. “Shut it, Wormtail!”

Lily wove their fingers together, tugging James back to her side. She smiled at him fondly. “I know it hasn’t really been that long. But we just figured—life is short, and we love each other. What’s the use in waiting?”

“Hear, hear!” Sirius raised his glass. “To Prongs and Lily!”

“To Prongs and Lily!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So the rest of the fic is outlined (went a lot quicker than I anticipated). Assuming I stick to the plan, there'll be 42 chapters in total. I've also been going back and editing to make sure the grammar and everything else is consistent throughout the fic. And I *still* had time to whip out this new chapter! All in one week. 😌
> 
> Let me know what you think! Our babes are entering a whole new stage of their lives. As always, your comments keep me going. If you'd like a specific prompt, I'd love to hear what you think their bachelor(ette) parties will be like. 😉
> 
> Have a lovely weekend.  
> xo Asa


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for very brief mention of homophobia (off-screen).

Remus was still packing his bag when the girls descended on their flat. Frowning, he considered whether or not to change. Sirius had been... mysterious, to say the least, when he instructed them to meet that afternoon and bring an overnight bag.

Sighing, he slung his backpack on and stepped out into the common area. Hermione and Marlene had decorated the flat with floating lanterns for class and a home-made party garland for humor. Marlene had painstakingly cut-out silhouettes of scantily-clad men and strung them up between paper hearts. He shook his head, squinting at the changes to their living room.

Hermione bumped him with her hip, hands full with two bottles of wine.

“Get out of here, you! No boys allowed.” Hermione chided, nodding at their friends. “Isn’t that right, ladies?”

“Yeah, scram!” Lily smirked. “Sirius will have a fit if you lot aren’t on time for James’s bachelor party.”

Remus groaned, scrubbing his face. Sirius had been preoccupied with his role as best man from the start. Thankfully, their engagement had been kept short; only a few months long.

“Okay, okay—I’m going. If I’m not back by noon tomorrow, something’s gone terribly wrong and you know who’s responsible.”

Dorcas chuckled, pushing him out the door. “London had better still be standing!”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” he muttered.

The door swung shut and Marlene clapped her hands. “Cheers! Drinks first; If Lily isn’t mildly intoxicated this entire night, I’m not doing my job right.”

“Marls!” Lily exclaimed, laughing. “We don’t need to be smashed to have a good time.”

“Sure, but it certainly doesn’t hurt,” Hermione opened the first bottle of wine with a wink.

Several hours later, and Lily was convinced she’d never had a better night. She’d been skeptical of the drinking game Hermione suggested, but it turned out to be an absolute riot.

“13”

“14”

Dorcas took a drink on 15.

“16”

“Merlin’s balls!”

“18”

“19”

Marlene ruffled her hair in imitation of James, winking at Lily. She dissolved into giggles.

“CHEERS TO THE GOVERNOR!” They all drank.

“I don’t think—,” Lily hiccuped. “I can—take anymore.”

Marlene laughed, tugging Lily over to lean against her. “Okay, Lils. Ready to go out, then?”

Lily pulled back, mouth agape with incredulity.

“Marls,” she hissed. “You think—you think I’m capable of _leaving the flat_? I’m not even sure I can make it to the loo without falling over!”

Hermione snorted, burying her head in her hands. “Thank _god_ it’s not just me!”

“Oh, sweet, sweet Hermione,” Lily giggled. “It’s you and me, baby!”

Marlene rolled her eyes, smiling as she muttered. “God help me, you two.”

“Don’t even start!” Hermione smacked her ineffectively with a throw pillow. “We’re adorable, and you love us.”

“Yeah, Marlene!” Lily stuck out her tongue. “A-dor-able.”

“Yes, yes,” Marlene got up to get them both glasses of water. “You’re both very cute. And I love you very much.” She reappeared, pushing glasses from the tap into their hands. "But you're still both turnip heads."

As Lily and Hermione chugged, Marlene looked at them fondly, shaking her head. “My wee disasters.”

“Hey—,” Hermione fumbled with her empty glass. “I resent that.”

“It’s okay, I find it a very attractive quality.” Marlene winked at her. Hermione blinked slowly.

“Okay, I know I’m a bit plastered—,” Hermione started and stopped. “But—”

“Marlene, are you gay?” Lily blurted out, immediately clapping her hand to her mouth.

“Lily!” Hermione hissed. “We can’t—we shouldn’t!”

“Marlene, I am so sorry,” Lily reached for her hand. “You definitely don’t have to—”

Marlene started laughing. Even Dorcas was hiding a smile with her glass of wine.

“I’m bisexual.” She squeezed Lily’s hand. “Don’t sweat it, love. Been meaning to come out to the rest of you.”

“Well, this is a relief,” Dorcas grinned. “It’s been a game of ‘Will she or won’t she?” for the past year.”

“You’re a real doll, Dorcas. You know that?” Marlene beamed at her.

“The past year—?” Hermione blinked. Marlene blushed.

“Yeah,” she bit her lip. “When you and Remus came out last fall—I had to really sit with it. Dorcas helped. _A lot_.”

She plucked at the cuff of her jeans. “Ack! It’s silly. I knew you all would be supportive. But I still couldn’t seem to muster the courage to come out.”

“Hey,” Hermione murmured. “Coming out is fucking hard. Thank you for trusting us with this.” She paused, grimacing. “Even if we were sort of assholes.”

“Yeah, we love you to pieces, Marls.” Lily affirmed. “And we appreciate you putting up with us.”

Marlene laughed. “It’s okay. I love you nutters. C’mere.” They piled onto Marlene, taking Dorcas with them.

◓

Remus stretched out on the beach, luxuriating in the feeling of sand under his toes and the breeze in his hair. James sat down heavily beside him, shaking his damp hair. Remus passed him the bottle of firewhiskey wordlessly.

“Ta, mate,” James took a swig. He sighed, leaning back on his elbows. “He really outdid himself, ey?”

Remus smiled to himself. This was nothing like the bachelor party Remus remembered from all those years ago; when Sirius had indeed taken them on a gut-churning, raunchy tour of London’s nightlife. This was so much better. Just the four of them in a cottage by the sea.

“Yeah,” Remus knocked their shoulders together. “It’s perfect.”

They watched Sirius splash about in the ocean as a great shaggy dog. Peter threw sticks down the shoreline for him to chase.

“He’ll kill me for saying anything, but—,” James scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“What is it, Prongs?” Remus frowned.

“Well,” James spoke slowly. “It’s just that he’s been getting some shit from the auror he’s shadowing.”

“Right, Sutherland. Pads said he was a right tit.” Remus took another sip.

“Yeah—he is. But he’s sort of gotten worse since he found out you were together.”

“So, he’s a homophobic tit,” Remus wrinkled his nose in distaste, stomach starting to turn on Sirius’s behalf.

“Yeah,” James grimaced. “Sirius talks about you all the time, of course. And Sutherland made a crack about you being his boyfriend, and Sirius was like, ‘Yeah, and?’”

“Anyways,” James took a swig of firewhiskey. “It wouldn’t be so bad if Sirius wasn’t working directly under him right now. It’s shit. I’m trying to get him to let me talk to the higher-ups about it. But you know Padfoot...”

Remus squeezed his shoulder. “Thanks, mate. I’ll talk to him, too. Might help.”

“Yeah,” James exhaled with relief. “That makes me feel better. Thanks, Moony.”

“You betcha,” Remus nudged him. “So, everything in order? How terrified are you?”

James barked a laugh, “Remus, if I have to talk to one more caterer or florist, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind. But marrying Lily? I’m not scared at all. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He slung his arm around Remus’s shoulders. “That’s not counting you guys, of course. You’re all tied for first place in my heart.”

“Prongs,” Remus snorted. “If you get any sappier, you may as well grow roots and become a maple tree.”

“Tosser,” James muttered, reaching for the firewhiskey. “Give me that.”

Remus was still laughing when Sirius bounded over, Peter trailing behind him. He was still soaking wet from the surf as he reached for Remus’s hands.

“Up!” Sirius commanded, tugging. “I require Moony ocean cuddles. They’re my _favorite_.”

“You only discovered them an hour ago,” Remus remarked dryly as he stood up and stripped off his T-shirt.

“All the more reason to get as many as I can now,” Sirius purred, sliding an arm around his waist. They waded into the water together, the sea beckoning with its gentle pull. Sirius turned towards him and Remus felt his breath catch at the sight of him.

He’d pushed his long hair back, where it dripped down his shoulders and bared the exquisite lines of his face. Remus wanted to kiss all the way down that gorgeous throat to his freshly-inked chest.

He started as he realized Sirius had something, glancing back up to meet his eyes. “What?”

“I said,” Sirius smirked. “Cat got your tongue, Moons?”

“More like a great big dog,” Remus gave him another once over, allowing his fingers to trace along with his gaze. Sirius’s skin shivered and his breath hitched.

“Gods, you’re so fucking gorgeous, Pads,” he murmured, hands slipping behind him as he pressed their bodies together and nipped at his neck. “It’s utterly unfair, you know. The things you do to me.”

Sirius groaned, his fingers curling into Remus’s hair as he brought their mouths together.

“Oy!” they heard James shout from the beach. “No getting too frisky! We’re _right here_ y’know!”

Sirius drew away reluctantly, lips parted. Remus felt his heart soar, rooted in that moment. He turned his head towards their friends even as his hands tightened around Sirius’s waist.

“Turn around!” he bellowed.

“What?” James squawked indignantly. Peter looked vaguely horrified. 

“You heard me!” Remus shouted, a grin splitting his face. “You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to! Turn around.”

Sirius doubled in laughter, his head falling against Remus’s bare chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. This chapter was supposed to cover both the bachelor(ette) parties and the wedding, but it kind of got away from me. I'll be back with another update soon!
> 
> In the meantime, hope you enjoyed this bit of fluff. 💕
> 
> xo Asa


	28. Chapter 28

Remus leaned back in his chair, heart full as he looked around the room. Hermione stood across the way with Frank and Alice. Her shoulders were loose as she spoke with them, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t holding a drink. Frank grinned, tugging his wife closer to him.

Sirius nudged their knees together, shooting him a sideways glance.

“I’m glad they turned things around,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Remus hooked their fingers together, resting them on his knee. “It was good of Frank to reach out.”

Sirius hummed, squeezing Remus’s hand. Both of their gazes were caught by James and Lily on the dance floor. James was smiling like a loon as he led her in a box step. His perfectly coiffed hair had been ruined about five minutes into the reception. Lily reached a hand up to tangle her fingers in it, arresting their feet. Standing in the middle of the dance floor as if the world stood still just for them, Lily rolled forward onto her toes to bring their lips together. Remus glanced away, feeling as if he was intruding.

He glanced over at Sirius, heart swooping upon meeting his fond gaze. Sirius reached over with his other hand to tug Remus towards him. Their lips slid together slowly. Sirius parted their mouths just enough to murmur, “Think that could be us someday?”

Remus felt his heart-rate take off, and not from excitement this time. Dread coiled in the pit of his stomach and rose up to his brain in a suffocating haze.

“I—” he nearly choked, drawing further back. He needed to calm down; play it cool. “Ah, I’m not really the marrying kind.” He wrinkled his nose. “Sort of an outdated institution, don’t you think?”

Remus felt Sirius tense, gritting out, “Yeah... totally.”

“I think I’m going to go snag Hermione for a dance,” Remus said brightly, uncurling their fingers. “Catch you later.”

“Yeah,” Sirius looked away, his brow furrowed as he continued cooly, “Later.”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Hermione broke away from Frank and Alice as she noticed him making a beeline for her.

“Hey,” she murmured, squeezing his arm as he led her onto the dance floor. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” he chirped. _Why was the ground moving so fast? Were they dancing already?_ “Great!”

“Okay,” she said quietly as they went through the motions of starting a dance. “So, do you want to tell me why Sirius is glaring daggers at me right now?”

He cursed under his breath.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought,” she frowned at him. “Let’s start again. What happened, babe?”

As he explained, Hermione kept them moving.

“Okay, to recap,” she grimaced. “Sirius is head over heels for you, as you should have realized by now.” She ignored his choked protest. “You said something stupid, and now you’re both upset.”

“Hermione, I won’t be around forever,” he said softly, his mind starting to clear as they talked. “To tell you the honest to god, despicable truth—”

He winced, as his mind filled in the rest.

“Remus,” she said warningly.

“Fine,” he growled. “I honestly thought he’d have grown tired of dating me by now. He’s never had a relationship that lasted this long. Ever. Worst case scenario, I thought he’d at least see this as a casual thing. No strings attached, just two friends who have sex sometimes. I never thought—”

“Oh babe,” she murmured, leaning her head against his chest. “You’re so smart, and yet _so dumb_ when it comes to—well.”

“Shut up,” he snorted, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“Look,” she took a deep breath and tilted her chin up to glare at him. His throat bobbed, insides still tangled. “You’ve loved him for decades. Don’t even try and deny it. Yeah, we’re probably not going to make it out of this war alive. We don’t get a ‘happily-ever-after’. But you can still make the most of the time you have with him.”

He blinked slowly, tears pricking his eyes. Before he could say anything, they were interrupted by James’s parents.

“Think I could cut in?” Fleamont’s eyes twinkled as he offered the crook of his arm to Hermione. Euphemia smiled patiently at Remus, as he dropped his arms from Hermione and offered her a hand. They danced quietly, and he got the feeling she knew that a moment of respite was exactly what he needed. As she hummed along with the music, he focused on calming his racing heart.

“Thank you, Remus,” she murmured as the song concluded, squeezing his arm. “You’re such a lovely dancer. Sirius is very lucky indeed.”

Remus flushed, smiling softly. “Thank you, Euphemia.”

“Now then,” she whispered conspiratorially. “Point me in the direction of some of your handsome friends.” He barked a laugh and looked around the room. Dorcas and Marlene had stolen Lily away, swaying together on the sidelines. Hermione had made off with James; they seemed to be delighting in dancing as poorly as possible.

“Oh,” his gaze caught on Gideon and Fabian. Most of the Order was there that night. “Let me introduce you to Gid. I saw him dancing earlier; very smooth.”

“Lead the way,” she inclined her head.

Having made the introductions, Remus slipped off to the bar for a drink. He started when he noticed Emmeline leaning against the wall, tucked off to the side. She’d been a few years ahead of them in school and, while she was in the Order, they hadn’t ever had much of a chance or reason to talk.

She seemed to be watching him as he ordered. His eyes flitted over to her while he waited for his drink. She was dressed in a vibrant floral suit over a delicate white blouse. Honey blonde hair framed her face in soft bangs and tumbled down her back.

Drink in hand, he waffled on whether or not to say something. Thankfully, Emmeline saved him from any further indecision.

“Wotcher, Lupin,” she smirked at him.

“Emmeline,” he nodded at her, shuffling closer. “How’s it going?”

“Not so bad. This is a cracking reception, innit?”

He hummed in agreement, taking a sip of his old fashioned.

“So, what’s the deal with the Longbottom girl?” she asked casually. He frowned, not liking the implication he heard.

“Is she seeing anyone?” Emmeline continued, causing Remus to start.

“Oh,” he scratched his head awkwardly. “No... she’s not. She just got out of a relationship.” Mind whirring, he continued pointedly. “Her _ex-girlfriend_ and her split a few months back.”

“Oh,” Emmeline took a sip slowly. “That’s too bad.”

“So, you’re..?” he fished, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Very, very gay,” she smiled playfully. “I’m guessing you and Black are more than just good friends?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. You could say that.”

He set down his glass automatically, seeing Lily hurrying over to him. She flashed a harried smile at Emmeline and whispered to Remus, “Minor crisis. Vernon and Sirius found each other. I think one of them is about to draw blood. Peter's trying his best to intercede, but...”

He gave a short nod, drawing his shoulders back as if preparing for battle. “I’m on it.”

Ten minutes later, he’d smoothed things over to the best of his ability and most importantly, pulled Sirius away from the Dursleys. Peter had nodded at him gratefully, slipping away from the Dursleys with relief. 

“Can we talk for a sec?” Remus murmured, guiding Sirius towards the photo booth they’d rented for the wedding. Sirius squirmed as they folded themselves into the small space, drawing the curtains behind them.

“What’s going on?” he asked quietly. Remus’s throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously.

“I just wanted to say,” he said slowly. “Because I don’t say it nearly enough—that you’re wonderful. I’ve never known anyone as loyal, incandescent, or resilient as you. Every day that you still want to be with me, I’m in disbelief.”

Sirius scoffed, but he leaned further into Remus, “Moons, I’m the lucky one.” He paused, brows furrowed as he continued softly. “I just want you to be able to see you how I do.”

Remus flushed, glancing away as his heart fluttered. He looked back up at Sirius, worrying his bottom lip. “We’re already in here—should we take some pictures?”

“Only if we agree to be disgustingly cute,” Sirius grinned, dragging Remus’s head down for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand that's actually it for 1978. We'll be picking back up in 1979 next time.
> 
> Would love to hear from y'all! Who's still following along? 🥰
> 
> xo Asa


	29. Chapter 29

Hermione glanced over at Emmeline nervously as they strolled through the park. Winter had melted to a tender spring, new life bursting from the earth with determination. It had been hard to find the time between assignments and work, but they were finally on their third date.

She found Emmeline bewitching with her playful smile and wildly fanciful style. The closest person Hermione could compare her to was Luna, but Emmeline’s quirkiness seemed to primarily manifest in aesthetics, not world beliefs. From what Hermione could tell, Emmeline dressed as if each day was a production. Today, she’d arrived at the restaurant in a pretty pinafore dress over a marigold blouse, topped off with a mossy beret. She was enchanting.

Which was exactly why Hermione found herself feeling more and more conflicting. By all rights, she should be tongue-tied and breathless in admiration. And she was! To a degree. But it just didn’t feel like it did with Billie. But maybe that was because Billie was her first real love and relationship?

Hermione drew herself back into the moment, rubbing her arms to build a little friction. Emmeline peered over at her, cocking her head coyly.

“Cold?” she asked. “Do you want to come back to my place?”

“Oh!” Hermione started. “Yeah, okay.”

“Are you sure?” Emmeline’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “It’s okay if you want to call it now. You’ve had a long week.”

“No,” she smiled reassuringly. “I want to see everything in person. You’ve told me so much about your art, and your home.”

“Okay,” Emmeline looked around. “Let’s find a safe place to apparate from.”

They arrived in a small cottage with an audible ‘crack.’ Hermione blinked in astonishment, taking in the combined living and studio space. It was littered with paintings, some on easels and others stacked against each other along the walls. At the center, there was a hooked rug and a vintage sofa.

Hermione took a moment to examine the paintings in more detail, crouching to inspect those that had yet to find new homes. The first painting was a seascape, waves crashing against the shore. As in, they were literally crashing. The landscape _moved_.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” Hermione murmured, mesmerized. “Moving paintings.”

Emmeline looked puzzled. “Surely you grew up with them, though, right? Your mum’s a witch, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Hermione caught herself. “Yeah—still amazing though, isn’t it? The intersection of painting and enchantment?”

“I mean, I like to think so,” Emmeline laughed.

“So what’s it like—a day in the life of an artist?” Hermione asked, admiring another enchanted landscape.

Emmeline shrugged. “It’s always different. Sometimes I’ll go to a client’s home, if I’m working on a commission. Other days, I paint for me; most of these you’re looking at for example. What I _need_ to be doing is figuring out how to sell them. I’ve never much liked the business side of working for myself.”

“No,” Hermione mused. “I imagine that’s the least interesting bit.”

Emmeline eventually coaxed her away from her work, and they settled onto the couch together. Hermione swallowed nervously. Their dates hadn’t made it to this point previously. A goodnight kiss, sure, but this was different. The expectation of _more_ hung heavily between them.

Hermione took the plunge, brushing Emmeline’s hair back and leaning forward to slide their mouths together. Their tongues met, exploring the expanse of each others’ slick mouths with interest. _Why did this still feel not quite right?_ Hermione pushed forward, tipping Emmeline onto her back against the cushions.

Emmeline drew back, panting. “Hey—” she murmured, eyes searching Hermione’s face. “Are you okay?”

_Was she okay?_

“Sorry,” Hermione frowned. “I think— Christ, I feel like an asshole. Apparently, I’m not quite as over my ex as I thought.”

“No, don’t,” Emmeline admonished softly. “You’re not an asshole.”

Hermione laughed self-effacingly as she sat up. “It’s not like Billie and I were even exclusive, but I just can’t stop thinking about her.”

“What’s she like?” Emmeline asked, sitting up and tucking her knees under her chin.

“She’s... grounded. Like, utterly unshakable. But also sort of a free-spirit?” Hermione laughed, scratching her forehead. “Um—she’s going to uni for psychology. She wants to become a therapist. But she’s also extraordinarily good at cutting hair; that’s how we met, when she was still working at a barbershop.”

“Okay, but is she cute?” Emmeline quirked an eyebrow playfully.

Hermione giggled. “Yeah, she’s cute as shit. She’s got this wicked mouth with the fullest lips. And the most gorgeous dreadlocks that she keeps tied up on top of her head. Oh—and a septum ring.” Hermione pretended to swoon. “Her whole aesthetic. _My god_.”

“So what happened?” Emmeline asked softly. “Why’d you break up?”

Hermione grimaced. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her and it was because she was with me. I told her I’d met someone else, and they weren’t polyamorous. But that was bullshit.”

Emmeline frowned. “I’m sorry. I hope—I hope you find your way back to each other.”

“Thank you,” Hermione smiled sadly.

“Tell you what,” Emmeline nudged her. “How about we break open a bottle of wine? I would say we could put on the telly, but I don’t have one. But I _could_ tell you about all the ones that got away. I have a _long_ history of falling for emotionally unavailable women.”

Hermione hid her face with her hands, peeking out through splayed fingers. “Yeah? Are you for real?”

“Absolutely. I think you’re aces, Hermione. Really.” She winked. “See, the benefit of going out with me a few times is that you’re pretty much automatically my best friend.”

“If you want,” she tacked on, tucking her hair behind her ear as she feigned shyness.

Hermione giggled. “God, yeah. Honestly, I think I _do_ have a huge crush on you, it’s just in the platonic vein.”

“I’m cool with that,” Emmeline smirked. “But you’ve got to promise me that if you and Billie do ever get back together, I get to meet her. I want to see this goddess in the flesh.”

Hermione laughed. “I think that’s highly unlikely, but sure. Why not?”

◓

Sirius had recently come into possession of the infamous flying motorbike. Well, it hadn’t been capable of flying at first. But he and James had quickly rectified the situation.

Remus’s stomach lurched as the bike careened towards the ground below, his arms clenching around Sirius’s middle. Sirius whooped with joy as they landed, the bike seeming to roar with matched enthusiasm. Remus buried his head in the crook of Sirius’s neck as he gradually brought them to a halt on the country lane.

“I’m never going to get used to that,” Remus shuddered.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Sirius teased. “Don’t lie. I know you _love_ riding with me.”

Remus hummed noncommittally as they hopped off the bike and stretched their legs.

“So I was thinking,” Sirius looked up at him coyly as he shuffled towards Remus. “That maybe _you_ could drive on the way back.”

Remus’s stomach took another panicked dive.

“Excuse me, WHAT?” He squeaked, eyes widening.

“It could be fun,” Sirius said, leaning up on his toes to curl his arms around Remus’s neck. Remus reflexively brought his arms to rest around his waist. He whined as Sirius nipped at his bottom lip.

“I really like the idea of riding behind you,” Sirius murmured lowly. “Teaching you how to fly. I bet you’d be _such_ a good student.”

Remus gasped. “That’s just not fair, Pads.”

“Oh, Moons,” Sirius smirked. “You know I don’t play fair.”

He brought their lips together hungrily, fingers threaded through Remus’s hair and tugging in that way that left his head tingling. Remus groaned, resolve already reduced to ash.

Which was exactly how Remus found himself driving along that same country road, fingers gripping the handlebars. Lily was going to give him so much grief when she found out, he was sure of it.

“Okay,” Sirius sounded like the cat who caught the canary. “You’re doing great! We’re ready for takeoff! You just need a little bit more speed.” He paused, waiting for Remus. “Good! Okay, now you’re going to kick down there! Yep! Right there. And we’re going to lift up!”

Remus wanted to squeeze his eyes shut like he did when Sirius was in control, but he couldn’t. So he gritted his teeth, kicked, and up they went. Soaring above the fields, he let go of another fear; he could do this. He could do anything!

He let out a jubilant roar that was quickly echoed by Sirius behind him.

After what felt like an eternity up among the clouds, they touched down close to Sirius’s flat. Remus drove the last bit of the way and parked. He climbed off the bike, legs immediately turned to jelly.

“Woah there,” Sirius laughed softly as Remus wobbled. “Where ya going, big guy?”

“I might be a little—out of sorts,” Remus admitted primly, letting Sirius take some of his weight. Sirius chuckled, supporting him as he regained his balance.

“Hey,” Sirius whispered. “I love you.” Remus went still, feeling as if his spirit had left his body.

“Well,” he coughed, mind reeling. “You know I love you, too.”

Sirius hummed, fiddling with Remus’s jumper. “I think I mean it a little differently than you do. But it's okay; you don't have to say it back. Really."

Remus frowned, and let himself be pulled upstairs. Sirius didn’t seem too put out, as he threw together a stir fry and curled up on the couch with Remus that night. Remus couldn’t focus on the film, his inner turmoil manifesting as the voices of his friends telling him not to fuck it up. To do right by Sirius. And to not be a bloody coward.

“Pads—” he shifted, drawing Sirius's attention away from the telly.

“Yeah, babe?” Sirius smiled, his eyes soft.

“I love you, too,” Remus murmured. “Exactly the same as how you meant it.”

His lips curved up into a smile. “I don’t know about that, Moons. Could you truly match the affection I hold for you? I think not.”

Remus snorted, “You’re ridiculous. That’s probably why I _love you so much_.”

“But not as much as I love you,” Sirius grinned. “It’s unquantifiable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll! Really, I'm trying to make sure to get y'all some updates early in the week, since it's my birthday this weekend. Going to eat a lot of fancy cheese and get wine-drunk.
> 
> Seriously though, could you leave a short comment letting me know how you're liking things post-Hogwarts? Haven't heard from y'all since chapter 24, and I'm a little nervous. 😅
> 
> xo Asa


	30. Chapter 30

Hermione sat down with a thump, her hair frizzing out in distress.

“Sorry I’m so late,” she grimaced. “This summer’s been crazy. If things don’t calm down at the shop, I think it might be time to move on. I just can’t handle that job on top of everything else.”

“No worries,” Frank smiled, pushing a cup across the table. “Here, got your usual.”

“Frank, you’re an angel,” she sighed happily, picking up her coffee. “How’s Alice?”

“She’s good. Just busted a bunch of poachers, actually. Her annual review is coming up in August, so it’s good timing.”

“That’s awesome!” Hermione beamed. “I’m sure it’ll go well. She’s, like, the most badass person on that force. Which is saying something; I know too many aurors!”

He laughed, “Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts. I’m not convinced that they’re all going to stick it out. It’s definitely not for everyone.”

Hermione hummed in agreement, thinking of her initial reservations when Sirius and James had decided to apply.

“How’s Remus doing?” Frank fiddled with his napkin. “I’ve noticed that Sirius has been... rather tense lately.”

“Things haven’t been easy for them,” she said slowly, lips turned down. “Remus has them in sort of a holding pattern; Sirius wants to move forward in the relationship and finally move in together, but Remus isn’t ready for that. I think that’s been really hard on Sirius.”

Frank paused in consideration, before offering, “For a lot of people, relationships are thought of as having a sort of trajectory, with marriage and kids and a white picket fence at the top. And if things are going smoothly, you’re continuously taking steps towards that—or whatever your vision of a ‘successful’ relationship is.”

“Yeah,” Hermione frowned. “Yeah! Frank, that’s spot on! But the thing is, I don’t think every relationship _needs_ to be on rails. Like, what if the measure of success was how affirmed or supported you both felt, rather than arbitrary goal posts that were constructed by an oppressive, capitalist society?”

“Y’know,” Frank mused. “I’m honestly not sure what Alice and I would have done if we hadn’t come from more traditional families. What our lives would look like.”

“I mean,” he continued, “Don’t get me wrong—I love being with her; I love being her husband. But I still wonder if we’d have married so young.”

“Yeah,” Hermione sat back with a sigh. “All that to say, relationships are hard. People are complicated.”

He snorted. “Yeah. You can say that again. Are you still off the market then?”

She rolled her eyes, “Do you think I would even have time, if I was willing to let you set me up? Face it, brother. I’ve got time for the Order, my job... for now, Remus and the gang, and you and I’s coffee dates. Anything else is just not happening.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, lifting his palms in surrender. “I’ll put the matchmaking on hold.”

“Good,” she took a sip and set down her cup. “Listen, Frank—” she drew her eyebrows together, glancing up at him seriously.

“What?” he asked intently, leaning forward.

“I—I think I’m eventually going to do something really stupid. I can’t tell you anything more than that. You’ll know it when it happens,” she said wryly. “But I’m hoping you might help me? When I do?”

“Of course,” he reached out to squeeze her hand. “Although you’re making me kind of super nervous right now.”

She shook her head, “Forget I said anything. It’s stupid.”

“No, Hermione. You can always count on me. I mean it,” he told her firmly. “You’re my sister—and my friend.”

“Okay,” she deflated a little, squeezing back.

◓

She arrived back at the flat to find Remus on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the hardwood floor.

“Oh no,” she dropped her bag by the door. “Please tell me you’re not stress cleaning.”

He glanced up at her, wiping the sweat from his brow. “It’s therapeutic?” he offered helplessly. Hermione grumbled, kicking off her shoes and joining him on the floor.

“Okay, what can I do?”

He nodded towards a pile of junk, “You could sort through our clutter. It’s been accumulating for _years_ at this point.”

“Two years, but okay,” she said drily as she began picking through it. She wrinkled her nose, relegating some old candy wrappers to the trash pile.

“Where did you even find all of this stuff?”

“Drawers,” Remus grunted.

She sighed, “I guess that is where we usually put stuff when we have to ‘clean’ before people come over.”

“Obviously not our best strategy,” she remarked, sorting through a pile of papers. _Trash, trash, keep, oh—_

“Remus,” she gasped. He kept scrubbing at the same boards. “REMUS!”

“What?” he bit back, frowning at her.

“Look!” she held out an old napkin. “It’s our bucket list! From that first summer we spent together!”

“Blimey,” he whispered, scooting closer to her as his bad mood temporarily lifted.

They read through it together, Hermione clapping a hand over her mouth in amusement.

“Well, we can cross #10 off,” Remus snorted. “Actually, we can cross most of them off. It’s been a busy few years.”

“Indeed,” she murmured. “All that’s left is taking a trip abroad together.”

“Well, not _all_ ,” he smirked at her.

“ _Remus_ ,” she hissed. “I never agreed to go to a strip club! It shouldn’t even be on here; you already told me you’d been before!”

“James’s first bachelor party,” Remus sighed wistfully. “Simpler times.”

Casting a sly gaze in her direction, he wheedled, “You know... We have one conveniently located just next door.”

She threw up her hands in cheerful exasperation. “Fine, fine. You win.”

“Anything to avoid cleaning, huh?” he teased, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. His stomach was in knots again.

“Shots,” Hermione said firmly, pulling herself to her feet. “And then we go.”

By the time they made it through the doors of the neighboring building, they were just starting to feel the effects of that life choice.

Remus giggled as Hermione looked around, eyes wide. There was a stage in the center of the room, with two poles extending up to the ceiling. Two dancers slid their bodies along them, clad only in go-go boots and—at least currently, thongs.

“Wow,” she breathed as Remus pulled her over to a small table. “I feel like I shouldn’t be here. But also, it’s been a hot minute since I saw someone else’s tits. Aren’t tits incredible?”

He snorted. “Okay, wait here you weirdo. I’m going to grab a round.”

“Sure,” she said, her eyes not leaving the stage.

A few rounds later and the novelty had started to wear off. Hermione set her drink down with a bit more force than intended. She clapped a hand over her mouth as it sloshed over the rim. Remus dissolved in giggles, sliding down in his chair.

“Remus,” she hissed. “ _Sit up_! If we look too drunk, they’re going to make us leave!”

“Heaven forbid,” he snorted, even as he complied.

“Don’t even,” she huffed. “How was I supposed to know how amazing this place was! Even the food! It’s so good!”

“Don’t you _dare_ suggest having our next pub night here.”

“Why not?” she tossed her head. “I think our friends would _love_ it.”

Remus scoffed, “Not everyone is as thirsty as you are, love.”

“That’s because most of you aren’t celibate at the moment,” she complained. Remus quieted, frowning at his glass.

“Okay, spill,” she demanded, leaning over the table towards him. “What the hell happened today?”

“What? Nothing,” Remus looked off towards the stage, pretending to be captivated by the show.

“Remus, you’re not into women,” Hermione kicked him under the table. “Don’t even try it.”

“Fine,” he sighed in frustration. “It _was_ a shit day. Basically, I went over to Sirius’s this morning since it’s his day off. He was complaining that we don’t spend enough time together.”

“And..?”

Remus threw up his hands, “And I suggested he start seeing other people! If his needs aren't being met. Open up the relationship, y’know.”

Hermione groaned. “Remus, _no_. I can imagine that went over about as well as a lead balloon.”

“Approximately, yeah,” he hesitated. “He thought it was about you... That I want you.”

“He does realize you’re gay?”

“Yeah,” Remus scratched his head. “But I mean, it’s not like I’m fundamentally against pussy or anything. I’m just queer for queers. Queers mostly being men in my case. But I’ve been with a couple of bi women before, and there was Tonks of course.”

“Are you saying you _do_ want to be with me?”

“No!” Remus exclaimed. “Well, not in that way.”

“Explain,” she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Look,” he sighed. “Even if there wasn’t a war on—” Hermione shushed him loudly.

“—and we didn’t have to live together, I’d still want to have this sort of relationship with you. More than friends, but not lovers. Do you know what I mean?”

“That’s very nice, Rem,” Hermione concentrated on the words. They were _important_. “And I feel the same. You’re like... you’re like my partner. Like, someone I love and want to be with, but platonically.”

“Yes! Exactly.”

“But you have to talk to Sirius,” she frowned at him. “He doesn’t want an open relationship! And let’s be honest. Neither do you. You have to tell him you were being an idiot.”

“But Hermione,” Remus stared at her, wide-eyed. “When I’m gone—I’m just trying to protect—”

“Well stop it!” she snapped. “It’s obviously not helping.” Softer, she continued, “Babe, we’ll figure it out. Okay? But you have to talk to him.”

“See?” he smiled dejectedly. “What would I do without you, love?”

“Well, for starters—” she began before he cut her off, with a gentle palm to the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Thank y'all so much for commenting on the last chapter. There's a definite correlation between them and feeling inspired to just keep writing. So, I've got this chapter for you today and probably another one tomorrow! Positive feedback is a great motivator. 😉
> 
> On a more serious note, my week's not going super well. I've been arguing with an acquaintance/friend about Biden's executive order on gender discrimination. Definitely giving me some weird vibes about writing in the HP fandom given JKR's terf writings and general shittiness. I definitely justify it by making most of her characters queer, but if you're reading this: I sincerely hope that you also support trans rights and have been boycotting anything that supports her monetarily.
> 
> Have a great week. Love y'all.


	31. Chapter 31

The air seemed to hang heavy over London that fall. Euphemia and Fleamont had died of Dragon Pox, leaving their sons reeling in the wake. James and Sirius weren’t afforded a mourning period, as war stopped for no one. Instead, they clung to each fleeting moment they could steal with their partners and friends.

Remus rubbed Sirius’s back lazily, leaning back into the sofa. James and Lily were still making do with their little flat. He couldn’t remember exactly when they moved to Godric’s Hollow, but he assumed it must be soon.

Sirius sat up with a groan, stretching his arms out and knocking both Remus and James about.

“Oof,” James grunted. “Watch it, mate!”

“Sorry,” Sirius grinned unrepentantly. “Didn’t see you there.”

“Patrol?” Remus guessed, already missing the solid warmth of his body pressed close.

“Regrettably,” Sirius confirmed wearily. “Another shift with the turd.”

“Ugh,” James gagged. “I hate that guy.”

Remus’s jaw tensed as he grit his teeth. It was a good thing they’d never met; he feared he might do something colossally stupid if he got the chance.

“Hey,” Sirius murmured, crawling back onto his lap for a tender kiss. He drew back reluctantly. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Remus whispered, hands twisted in Sirius’s shirt.

“You never kiss _me_ goodbye, Pads,” James complained loudly as Sirius stood back up. He raised an eyebrow at James.

“Well,” he drawled. “Remus is _leagues_ more attractive than you are, so...”

James sniffed, acting affronted. He turned towards Lily, who was painting her nails on the carpet. “Can you believe it? Eight years of friendship, and nothing,” He lamented. “Not in all this time! It’s like he doesn’t even—”

James started as Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned over, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips.

“EW, Pads!” James’s face twisted in disgust. “We’re brothers! That’s incestuous!”

“From what I can tell,” Lily remarked drily, “the Sacred Twenty-Eight couldn’t have remained pure without a little old-fashioned inbreeding.”

“Sick burn, Lils,” Sirius grinned at her, ruffling her hair as he grabbed his bag on the way out. “Don’t have too much fun without me!”

“No promises!” James yelled as the door slammed shut. Peter emerged from the small hallway that led to the toilet, drying his hands on his pants nervously.

“What’d I miss?” he blinked as he took in James’s still pink cheeks and Remus and Lily’s barely contained laughter.

James leapt to his feet and slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders, “Absolutely nothing, Wormy!” He glared over his shoulder at them. “I’m surrounded by clowns.”

James released Peter and made a beeline for the kitchen. He pulled on an apron and began banging around.

Remus shifted in his seat as Peter dropped into the abandoned spot next to him. Being in his company had begun feeling more and more uncomfortable. He’d never known exactly when Peter had switched sides. _Had he already betrayed them? Or was he still just thinking about selling out his friends, the people who considered him family? No,_ he thought firmly, _nothing is set in stone._

“It’s James’s night to cook,” Lily stage whispered as she blew on her wet nails. “I think he’s sort of hoping you’ll stick around.”

“Sorry,” Remus twisted his hands nervously, leaping upon the excuse to get away. “I promised Hermione we’d do dinner together tonight.”

“Oh,” Lily’s shoulders sagged a little, barely noticeable. His stomach knotted in guilt. “Of course! Give Hermione our love. We haven’t seen her in ages.”

“I will,” he promised, ducking into the kitchen to clap James on the shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he winked. “I’d give you a kiss, too, but I don’t think your heart could take it.”

“Moony,” James half-laughed, half-choked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Sirius was rubbing off on you.”

“He’s doing a lot more than just that,” Remus said slyly. James smacked himself in the forehead, mumbling, “Walked right into that one.”

“That you did,” Remus said cheerfully. “I’ll see you next soon! Sorry I can’t stay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James waved him off. “Get out of here, you tosser!”

◓

Unlocking the door to their flat, Remus was sadly unsurprised to find the increasingly all-too-familiar sight of Regulus Black in his living room. He sighed, shutting the door behind him.

Regulus had only been inducted as a Death Eater early that summer, just out of Hogwarts. But by the fall, he’d darkened their doorstep and the three of them had constructed a fragile alliance. Remus had never known his motivations for defecting; why he stole the locket from the cave, leaving a decoy for Dumbeldore and Harry to find.

He’d been surprised to learn that—in addition to finding the act of splitting one’s soul utterly depraved—Regulus felt an overwhelming sense of loyalty and duty to Kreacher. Voldemort had made a grave error, asking to borrow their house-elf to test the Horcrux’s defenses. When Kreacher had returned to him half-dead, Regulus had snapped and come looking for them, recalling their offer.

Privately, Remus wondered if he was truly motivated by pettiness or perhaps spite. But Regulus had found a kindred spirit in Hermione, that was undeniable. Even if they didn’t necessarily agree on liberation, they both felt passionately that house-elves deserved better than they found in many homes.

Remus nudged his shoes off and hovered near where they’d spread out, papers forming a chaotic ring around them.

“Please tell me you brought takeout,” Regulus said haughtily from his cross-legged position on the floor. “I think this one’s about to murder us all.”

“I had to explain to him what ‘hangry’ meant,” Hermione said drily.

Remus snorted. “Take a break. I’ll make dinner.”

He strode over to the kitchen and pulled out a saucepan, filling it with water from the sink. He turned on the gas and lit the stove with a wordless spell. Placing the pot on the range, he sprinkled salt into the water generously.

He pulled out a cutting board and chef's knife, grabbing a head of garlic. He began separating the cloves, lightly crushing them to remove the papery skins. As he sliced through each clove, he nodded to Regulus who had been hovering by the far counter.

“Could you light another burner?” he asked casually, as if cooking with your boyfriend’s estranged brother was something he did all the time. “We need to heat a frying pan.”

Regulus opened his mouth as if he wanted to protest, but slowly closed it and approached the stove with caution. Remus ignored him, continuing to work on the garlic.

“Grab one of those,” Remus murmured once he’d successfully lit the burner, nodding at one of the pans hanging above. Regulus reached up, but he couldn’t quite reach it. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, he straightened his back and used his wand to dislodge and levitate a pan within arms reach. Remus hid a smile.

Finished with the garlic, Remus stood by his shoulder at the stove. Regulus had positioned the pan neatly over the flame.

“I’m just going to add a little oil,” Remus said. “Well—maybe a bit more than that.” He added a couple of generous glugs to the pan. “Could you pass the spaghetti? Yeah, that long sleeve.”

He tore open the package and dumped the pasta into the now boiling water.

“Now,” he continued, pouring the garlic slices into the hot oil. “We add some crushed red pepper... and we wait.” He handed a pronged spoon to Regulus. “Can you handle stirring it for a few minutes? I’m going to freshen up.”

“Of course I can,” Regulus scoffed. Remus tried not to laugh, catching Hermione’s eye as he turned away. She looked almost as bemused as he felt. When he made it back to the kitchen, Regulus was diligently alternating between stirring the pasta and the garlic. Remus bit back a laugh. Never had spaghetti been so tenderly looked after; so well agitated.

“Thanks,” he said, sliding in next to him. “At this point, we just need to transfer a bit of the pasta water and all the spaghetti to the sauce and stir.”

“No parmesan?” Regulus looked affronted.

“We’ll grate some on top,” Remus amended, which seemed to appease him.

When they settled back into their work that night, Remus felt hope blooming in his chest. It felt silly to say, but Regulus’s willingness and desire to help prepare a meal was more reassuring to him than anything he’d said thus far about his motivations.

“Okay,” Remus rubbed his hands together. “Catch me up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. I have been waiting for THIRTY chapters for Regulus to team up with Hermione and Remus! I am so damn excited to bring him into the fold. Hope y'all enjoyed him learning how to make Spaghetti Aglio e Olio. 😅
> 
> As always, please please please leave some love in the comments! I read & respond to each one.
> 
> xo Asa


	32. Chapter 32

Hermione had finally quit her part-time job as a shop-girl. It would have been ludicrous to try and continue after Regulus entered their lives. She’d have died from the stress alone, nevermind not having enough hours in the day.

She was constantly on edge, terrified that they’d be caught unawares and have to explain how it was that they were keeping company with a Death Eater. They’d already had a few close calls, James or Sirius having stopped by unannounced. She was almost certain she’d gained a few gray hairs on those days.

This afternoon, however, she’d left Regulus and Remus to fend for themselves. She’d been tailing her real parents— _Hermione Granger’s_ parents—for the past couple of weeks, waiting for the right moment.

She thumbed through the row of books in front of her absently, drawing one out at random to flip through.

 _Right on time_ , she thought with relief as Jean Granger walked through the door of the bookshop, bell tinkling merrily. She appeared to visit every Sunday, losing herself among the stacks for a precious hour. Her mother had always taken refuge in books when she needed to recharge.

Hermione glanced back down, scrutinizing the book she’d grabbed: _The Stand_ by Stephen King. She wrinkled her nose. Not really her genre of choice. She reshelved it and took a meandering path towards the parenting books.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, feigning surprise, “Sorry, but have you read that?” She nodded towards the copy of _Your Baby and Child_ that her mother held open. “My friend is expecting, and I’ve been meaning to do some light reading.”

Jean looked up at her in surprise. She was nearly due, her belly round and heavy with the child growing within. “I’ve only skimmed it,” she smiled tentatively. “Some of the women in my prenatal class recommended it.”

“I’ll have to check it out,” Hermione beamed at her. It was surreal, seeing her mother at home in the ’70s. She still had her fabulous afro, proudly telling the world ‘Black is Beautiful.’

Jean shifted, looking slightly puzzled. Finally, she asked, “So, when is your friend due?”

“Oh not for ages,” Hermione said. While Lily wasn’t expecting quite yet, Hermione estimated that they would conceive Harry in October. Not long to go.

“You look about to burst,” Hermione smiled. “Any day now, huh?”

“Hmm, quite,” Jean looked amused, giving her another once over. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to want to rub my belly for good luck.”

“Never!” Hermione laughed. “Even I know that’d be quite rude.”

“Good.” Her lips twitched. “What did you say your name was?”

“Hermione,” she said, adding wryly. “My parents thought themselves very well-read.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows shot up. “John and I were thinking of Hermione for our daughter. We love Shakespeare.”

“Oh,” Hermione grimaced, leaning forward as if to take Jean into her confidence, “Let me tell you, I’ve always rather hated it. I was bullied throughout school; no one could pronounce it!”

“Oh dear,” she frowned. “That won’t do. I hadn’t even considered—”

“What about something a little simpler?” Hermione suggested, trying for earnest enthusiasm. “Maybe a family name. Or if you wanted to stick with Shakespeare, Viola is lovely. And a much more interesting character if you ask me.”

“I don’t believe I did,” she said amusedly, looking at Hermione like she was a mystery to unravel. “But I think you’re right. Thank you.”

She offered her copy of _Your Baby and Child_ to Hermione. “Your friend is lucky to have you,” she said, squeezing Hermione’s arm on her way past. Hermione watched her leave, a lump forming in her throat.

◓

Remus looked around the dark cavern nervously as Kreacher showed them where the invisible boat was anchored. He flexed his hand, still tender from the blood sacrifice required upon entrance.

Kreacher took Regulus across the dark lake first, as planned. Regulus was to start drinking the Emerald Potion while Kreacher came back for Hermione. While the enchanted boat could carry only one adult wizard at a time, Kreacher was free to ferry them across as needed.

After what seemed an eternity, Kreacher arrived back at the entrance and Hermione climbed into the boat. Remus watched apprehensively as they disappeared into the darkness.

He could barely make out the island in the center of the pitch-black lake. Its greenish glow reflected eerily across the surface of the water. He drew his shoulders back. He couldn’t let his guard down here. While the poison on the island would leave you weak and on the verge of madness, the true danger was the inferi that lurked below the still waters. They formed an army, the hundreds of muggles and handful of wizards that Voldemort had murdered and left there.

Remus started as the boat came back into view, just barely. Hermione had attached a flare to it in an effort to increase its visibility from both the shore and the island. As they neared, Remus grimaced, seeing Regulus doubled over in pain from the Drink of Despair.

“MASTER, NO!” Kreacher screeched, as Regulus clawed a hand out into the lake, gasping for water. Even as Kreacher scrambled to reel him back into the boat, Remus could see that the damage had been done. In disturbing the surface of the lake, he’d roused the undead army below.

Inferi burst up through the water, clawing towards the ship. Remus gripped his wand, calling forth a great wall of fire that skirted just past the boat. From the island, Hermione did the same on the other side, engulfing the lake in flame. The inferi fell back, crying out in anguish and fear.

Remus grit his teeth, keeping the flame alive as the ship continued on, Kreacher doggedly thrusting the flare out at any inferi who got too close. Sweat rolled off his brow, trickling down his neck. _Just a few more minutes._

The second the boat docked, Remus relaxed his wand arm and helped Kreacher drag Regulus from the ship.

“Hermione—” he choked out, tugging Regulus towards him.

Kreacher looked back towards the lake nervously. “Kreacher cannot take the boat back out, sir.”

Remus cursed quietly. “I hope to god Plan B works then.”

He held Regulus up with one arm, the other trained on the lake, ready to ward them off with more fire. To his great relief, Hermione soon landed shakily, stowing her broomstick in her bag.

“You got the locket?” He asked, scooping Regulus up in his arms as they made a break for the cave entrance. He weighed next to nothing, his small, shaking body curling into Remus’s chest.

“Yeah,” she grit her teeth, keeping a flame going behind them as the inferi began climbing out of the lake. The moment they’d cleared the cave, they paused for a short breather. Hermione put her hands on her knees, chest heaving.

Kreacher looked to Regulus anxiously. He was jabbering softly into Remus’s chest.

“Master will be okay?” Kreacher asked with pleading eyes. “Master must be okay. Master wouldn’t leave Kreacher—”

Hermione blinked up at him, wiping the sweat from her brow. “He’ll be fine, Kreacher,” she assured him. “The potion was only meant to incapacitate the drinker for a short time, not kill them outright. He’ll recover from this, like you did.

Kreacher nodded solemnly. “I’ll take good care of Master Regulus, I will.”

“You’ll have our help,” Remus promised, shifting Regulus in his arms. He was one of theirs now.

◓

“Can you believe it?” James beamed, squeezing Lily to his side. “A little Prongslet.”

“You may have mentioned it a few times,” Remus said drily. Hermione swatted him, laughing into her drink.

“It’s okay, mate,” Sirius shot him a dirty look even as he slung an arm around James and Lily. “I’m excited enough to make up for any sour pusses among us.”

“Well thank God for that,” Lily snorted, extricating herself from James’s clutches. “You can be excited on my behalf, too. I’m dead on my feet.”

“We’ll come by tomorrow,” Remus promised, even as his aching bones protested. They were stretched thin. “Help you pack some boxes.”

“I can’t believe you’re moving to a _village_ ,” Sirius complained for the hundredth time. “It’s so pedestrian.”

“Well, luckily we can come bother you in London any time we need a little more excitement,” James winked. “And you can come visit us in Godric’s Hollow anytime you want a little peace and quiet.”

“It’s Padfoot,” Peter laughed. “Does he even know the meaning of peace and quiet?”

“Do _you_ , Pete?” Remus snapped before he could stop himself. He scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration. He was just so _tired_ and _anxious_. It was relentless, the feeling of time starting to unravel in front of him.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Peter asked, seemingly stung.

“I think our Moony is nearing his time of the month,” James ribbed, shooting Remus a look that clearly said ‘get it together, man.’

Remus sighed, trying to ground himself. He couldn’t let this happen again; Peter dividing them, planting seeds of doubt in Sirius’s mind about Remus’s loyalty and character. Not that was guaranteed to happen this time, he reminded himself firmly. Peter could make a different choice. 

Hermione pressed their sides together, squeezing his knee. He felt his mind start to clear. He leaned into her gratefully as he collected his thoughts.

He had to tell Sirius. It wasn’t part of the plan, but this was untenable. If Hermione agreed—well, she had to. She just had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was able to finish up one more chapter for y'all this week! Badda boom, badda bam. 
> 
> As far as Hermione intercepting her mother goes, I feel like for continuity reasons, it was important to try and change baby Granger's name in this timeline.
> 
> Speaking of, it's my birthday today! If you want to get me a present, drop a comment below. 😉
> 
> xo Ace


	33. Chapter 33

“Only two days ‘til Christmas, huh Moons?” Sirius smiled tiredly at him from across the table.

Remus snorted, “Finally, the barrage will stop. If I _ever_ hear Santa Baby again, I swear to God—”

“Truly, your life is the most difficult,” Sirius teased, before wolfing down the last half of his sandwich. Remus narrowed his eyes at him.

“If you play it on Christmas, I will _end_ you.”

“You would never,” Sirius winked. “I’m too cute.”

“I do rather like having you around,” Remus admitted, reaching across the table to tangle their fingers together.

“See?” Sirius smirked. “I knew you loved me.” He glanced at the clock. “Damn. I have to run. My lunch break’s almost over and Sutherland will have my ass if I’m late again.”

“Sure, babe,” Remus squeezed his hand. “Listen, though—do you have time tonight? There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Ominous,” Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, nothing bad,” Remus said cheerfully, even as he winced internally. It _was_ a little bad—maybe a lot bad? “It’s just been hard to find a moment alone with you lately.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said wearily. “There’s always something, isn’t there? But yeah, come by my place tonight. I’ll pick up takeout on my way home.”

“Sure,” Remus said, flashing him a tight smile. He _could_ do this. He was _going_ to do this. He’d have to find a way to communicate it. Sirius deserved the truth. It was time to come clean, lay all his cards out on the table and have faith in their relationship.

“Okay,” Sirius murmured, stooping to give him a quick kiss before he left. “Bye, love.”

◓

The last thing he remembered was arriving back at his flat and delving into a book. When he came to, he was absolutely freezing. He blinked in confusion, staring up into the cloudless sky.

“Remus—” Hermione gasped, helping him sit upright. They had been deposited in a snow-covered clearing, surrounded by pine trees that stretched towards the sky.

“What the hell,” he muttered, brushing off his jumper. _Why were they in the woods? This didn’t make any sense._

Hermione glanced nervously behind him, her fingers gripping his arm. He turned slowly, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. It was _them_. He’d know those glittering eyes anywhere.

“So,” they said, peering down at him. They were beautiful in a terrifying, ethereal sort of way that made Remus want to claw his own eyes out. Their skin was as pale as moonlight, almost translucent. Remus wondered if this was their true shape or just another mask. “You’re finally awake.”

“I thought it was time we had a little...chat,” they said with a feral smile. “You seem to be under the impression that you may freely disclose the nature and origin of your time here.”

Remus gulped. _This was not good._

“And you see,” they continued, tossing their raven black hair. “That’s simply not true. I’ve given you this chance. An opportunity to tip the scales. But it’s simply not going to work if you continue trying to reveal our scheme. I’ll pull you out as quickly as I put you in.”

“But Sirius—” Hermione tried on his behalf. He could feel her shaking against his side. _Or was he the one shaking? He was so cold—and so very angry. And scared? Yes, more than scared; terrified._

“He is not to be told anything,” they snapped. “You presume too much. I’ve already been more than generous, allowing you to form an alliance with the brother. You’ve been permitted to reveal much. But to seek further aid? That would hardly be fair, would it?”

Remus forced himself to keep his eyes trained on their awful, inhuman face.

“No,” they sneered. “You’re to carry out this mission; just the... three of you. Can your tiresome mortal minds comprehend that?”

The two of them nodded reluctantly, Remus’s throat closing up painfully.

“Good,” they said, throwing them one last scorching glare. “Don’t forget it again. I’ll be watching.”

And just like that, they were gone. Remus and Hermione were left trembling in the clearing.

“Fuck,” Remus said, slamming his fist into the frozen ground. “FUCK!” he screamed again. Hermione scrambled to her feet, reaching a hand out to pull him up. She paced to and from within the clearing while he seethed, raging against their circumstances. _How was it that—in both timelines—he became embedded in a web of lies? Was it him? Was he the common denominator? Was this his fault?_

“Okay,” she stopped in front of him. “We need to make a plan. Can you do that with me?” He nodded tightly.

“Okay, we’re in a forest. I don’t think we’re in England anymore. Maybe—maybe Sweden? Or Norway?” she rattled off, shaken. “I don’t have my wand. Or my bag. Do you have an ID on you? Money? Anything?”

He shook his head.

“Christ,” she muttered, brow furrowed. Remus sighed, straightening his back. His crisis was going to have to wait.

“We have to start moving,” he said, peering around. “With any luck, we can find our way to a village today. Track down some more information and plan from there.”

“Okay,” Hermione stopped scrubbing her face. She added, quietly, “Thank you.”

◓

After two days of traipsing across Europe with no means, they arrived back at their flat in London. Remus pushed the door open, looking around with dread. On the kitchen counter, they found a note. It was signed by Hermione.

“Did you write that?” Remus asked, grinding his teeth together.

“Nope,” she said, popping her lips for emphasis. They quietly seethed together, re-reading the note.

_Just popped off to Sweden for a few days with Remus. Sorry we missed you! Happy Christmas. -Hermione_

“Bloody fucking hell,” Remus growled. _This_ was the reason he was expected to give for disappearing for two whole days?

Hermione squeezed his arm. “Go hop through the shower; I can wait. You need to go to Sirius.”

He scrubbed a hand over his dirty face. “And say _what_? ‘I’m sorry for straight up disappearing over Christmas with my best friend, who you’re insanely jealous of?’”

“Maybe not your best opener,” Hermione said carefully. They eyed each other, before dissolving into hysterical laughter.

“Oh god,” he said, sobering. “I’m _fucked._ ” 

“Just go to him—you’ll work it out,” she murmured, rubbing his back sympathetically. She wrinkled her nose. “Shower first, though. Definitely shower first.”

◓

Remus shifted awkwardly in front of the door to Sirius’s flat. He was dead on his feet, but he had to see him, had to at least apologize.

Sirius answered the door, his face stony as he moved aside to let Remus in, leaving plenty of room for Remus to get by. He shut the door behind them, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“What the hell happened, Moony?” he asked, jaw clenching.

“I’m so sorry, Pads,” Remus pulled at his fresh jumper nervously. It was a shit excuse, but it was all he had. “It was all so spur of the moment. Hermione had apparently been planning it for ages. She wanted to surprise me; a trip abroad had been something on our—”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” Sirius bellowed. “You couldn’t be arsed to send word to me—to any of us! We had to descend upon your flat, worried _sick_ , only to find a few lines from _her_.”

Remus felt his nerves fraying with each passing second. He sure as hell hadn’t wanted to be stranded in Sweden with no money, no wand, not even a passport. He’d wanted to be _here_.

“I’m sorry!” Remus grit out, his head swimming. “It was a stupid mistake and I—”

“You just missed everyone,” Sirius interrupted angrily. “It’s Christmas, you know. You should have been here.”

“I know,” Remus rasped, feeling like he was about to pass out. “I’m sorry, Pads. I’m so sorry.”

Sirius quieted, eying him with distrust. Dangerously calm, he continued, “I’m just so confused, Moony. I really am. Are you having an affair? Is that why you asked to open up our relationship—”

“I’m not fucking Hermione!” Remus snapped. “And I don’t even want an open relationship! We talked about this—”

“Then why!” Sirius raised his voice angrily. “Why weren’t you here? Are you working for the other side? Did Voldemort send for you? I don’t fucking get it!”

Remus felt his body go cold and rigid. _This wasn’t supposed to happen—Sirius trusted him this time. They were lovers... partners. Had Peter said something? Had it started already?_

“Sirius, no,” Remus whispered, his voice cracking. “I would never—I could never betray you, or our friends like that.”

Sirius pressed his hands to his head in frustration. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Remus shifted anxiously, heart hammering in his chest.

“I have to go,” Sirius muttered, looking away.

“What? Why?” Remus asked anxiously. He was suddenly finding it very difficult to breathe.

“Mission,” Sirius shrugged. “Dumbledore asked last-minute.”

Remus blinked back tears, noticing for the first time the small duffel-bag that lay packed by the door.

“Please, don’t leave like this,” Remus whispered. “I just—I need to know we’re okay.”

“Well, we’re not bloody okay, are we?” Sirius snapped. He softened, seeing Remus flinch. He sighed, “Listen, Moons. I need some space, okay? I know I’m not thinking straight right now. I’m sorry. Can we talk when I get back?”

“Okay,” Remus deflated. “That’s fine. Just... stay safe. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Sirius shifted, opening the door. He squeezed Remus’s shoulder tentatively on his way out. “You too.”

◓

If you asked him, Remus couldn’t have told you how he made it back to their flat afterward. He felt like he was about to keel over, he was so bloody exhausted. All he wanted was to fall into his bed and sleep for thirty-six hours. Then maybe he’d be able to pull himself together and figure out how to fix this.

Instead, Remus pushed open the door to their flat and found an even larger problem. He swept his eyes over Regulus and turned to Hermione, who was bent over their bug-out bags.

“Hermione,” he growled. “I can’t handle any more shit today. _Please_ tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Regulus jeered weakly from his sprawl on the couch. He was still recovering from his tangle with Voldemort’s Emerald Potion. While he was capable of being up and about like everything was fine, it took a toll on him after the fact. “If you have eyes and a working brain, that is.”

“Yes, thank you Regulus,” Hermione said drily, zipping up the backpacks. She exhaled shakily, looking up at Remus. “This is it, babes. Plan D.”

“No,” he whimpered, dropping onto the sofa next to Regulus. “No! That’s the shit plan!”

“It’s the plan that keeps us alive long enough to figure things out,” Regulus said. He paused, continuing, “I know we didn’t think it was going to happen this soon... But I had a chance, while I was at Malfoy Manor last night. I stole the diary.”

“Christ,” Remus closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto the cushions with a thud. “Why would you do that while we were gone?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly realize that you were at the time,” Regulus sniffed. “It wasn’t until I came back here afterward that I saw your note.” He frowned at them. “You really should have told me you were leaving.”

“Sorry,” Remus muttered, his skin crawling in irritation.

“Anyways,” Hermione interrupted, tossing them each a backpack. “Time’s up, boys. We have to leave. It’s been risky enough for Regulus, staying in London today.”

Regulus smirked, “Lucius must be in an absolute panic right now.”

“You don’t think he’s gone to Voldemort?” Remus asked, a whole new knot of worry forming in his stomach.

Regulus shook his head, “No, he’ll want to save face. Unless the Dark Lord asked to see it, he would never admit to having lost it.”

“It gives us an advantage,” Hermione agreed. “But we have to disappear now. We’re a team. If it’s not safe here for one of us, it’s not safe here for any of us.”

“Hermione,” Remus rasped. “Please. Sirius—”

“I know,” she murmured, reaching out a hand. She squeezed their fingers together. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Remus.”

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” he whispered as she pulled him to his feet. “I never wanted to leave—”

He wiped tears from his cheeks furiously.

“I know,” she murmured, wrapping an arm around his waist. Regulus hovered next to them, his brows knit together in worry. Remus squeezed his eyes shut and breathed.

“Ready?” she murmured. He heard Regulus agree solemnly, so he nodded tightly.

They disapparated with a crack, and just like that, Remus felt that part of his life slam shut behind them with heart-wrenching finality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, babes. 😭 It killed me to do this, but we've got to move onto the next part of the story. I *promise* that there will be a happy ending. But things are going to be rough for a little while. Please be kind to both Remus & Sirius—they're both under a heck of a lot of stress in this chapter.
> 
> On a lighter note, thank you to all of my new readers! I've been nerding out on TikTok (@fictionbutmakeitgay) and I'm so overwhelmed by y'all's support. 💜
> 
> xo Ace


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: discussion of (off-screen) amputation

They had set up camp in a remote stretch of forest. Remus felt the parallel between this and that snowy clearing in Sweden with resentment, the irony resting bitterly on his tongue.

They were all delirious from the events of that week and made quick work of the campsite, anxious to get some sleep. Hermione secured their protective wards and the boys set up the tent. While it was nowhere near as large or kitted out as the tent the golden trio had taken on the run with them during their Horcrux hunt, Hermione had done what she could to make it comfortable.

They collapsed into their respective cots, sneaking in some blessed hours of sleep.

When Remus finally dragged himself out of bed, he found Hermione crouched down next to Regulus, who had curled up on himself on the floor. He had pushed up his shirt sleeves, revealing the angry jet-black mark on the inside of his left forearm. Remus winced, imagining the burning sensation that was said to accompany a summons from Voldemort.

Hermione glanced up at him, concern lining her face.

“I’m going to...” Remus trailed off awkwardly.

“Tea?” Hermione asked, throwing him a line.

“Yes, exactly,” he gulped, searching for the kettle. By the time he’d fixed three cups of Earl Grey, Regulus had moved from the floor to the edge of one of the cots, Hermione perched next to him. He held out a shaky hand for the teacup, offering a half-hearted smile that came out more like a grimace. Remus wordlessly took a seat on the cot opposite them.

Remus fidgeted awkwardly, before breaking the silence. “Summons?” he asked, taking a tentative sip.

“Yeah,” Regulus rasped. “I think there must have been a meeting today. He will be most displeased by my absence.”

He frowned down at his cup, continuing, “I don’t know what will happen—not responding to his call, it’s... unheard of.”

“How much do you know about how the Dark Mark works?” Hermione asked. “Does it have any other function besides very rudimentary communication—and obviously status among his followers?”

Regulus shook his head grimly, “It’s shrouded in secrecy. It’s entirely possible that it does provide another purpose outside of the summons.”

“Tracking?” Hermione guessed.

“Possibly,” he agreed, “It could lead him straight to us.” He seemed to steel himself. “That’s why we have to remove it. It’s a weak spot in our defenses that could ruin us if we let it continue to fester on my arm. No it’s—it’s better to sever the link and be assumed dead.”

“I wasn’t aware the Dark Mark could be removed,” Remus frowned. “What would we have to do?”

“Well,” Regulus said carefully. “We’d have to sever the arm itself, probably at the elbow—”

“No,” Remus squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re not fucking _amputating your arm_ , Regulus.”

“Surely there’s another way,” Hermione reasoned. “If I had time to research—”

“Well, you don’t have time,” Regulus snapped. He took a calming breath, continuing more levelly, “Listen, concerns for our safety aside, I don’t want this accursed mark on my body a minute longer than necessary. What it represents—I should never have let myself be branded. But I did. I can’t take that back. What I can do is make a different choice now—” he glared at them defiantly, “one that is mine alone to make.”

Remus scrubbed his face with his hands. “You’re right,” he said. “I fucking wish you weren’t. But you’re right—it _is_ your choice. And we can’t risk being found.”

Hermione wavered, still caught on the idea of finding a work-around; one less... grisly.

“I want this,” Regulus said stubbornly. “Having this mark, no matter how active or faded it might be, it doesn’t represent the person I want to be.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Hermione conceded. “But okay. Can we have a few hours? I can strengthen the wards, just in case. But we do need time to prepare.”

Regulus nodded, “We’d better do it magically. It’ll be cleaner, less likely to get infected.”

“Should I—?” Remus blanched, mind reeling at the thought of it.

“I’ll do it,” Hermione drew her shoulders back. “I’m better rested than you are. I can practice the Severing Charm while the two of you get a bit more sleep.”

“That does seem... for the best,” Remus agreed, taking stock of how utterly drained he still felt. “Will we be able to heal it properly though?

Hermione nodded slowly, “ _Vulnera Sanentur_ would be best. Cast three times, it should stop the blood flow and knit the wound.”

Remus nodded, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Good idea—,” he cut himself off with a yawn. Regulus blinked at him sleepily, jaw opening reflexively as he mirrored him.

“Go back to sleep,” she said, knocking gently into Regulus’s side. “Both of you.”

“Okay,” Regulus sighed, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Thank you.”

◓

Regulus recovered slowly but steadily, from both the loss of his limb and the continued effects of the Emerald Potion. He frequently felt a burning sensation in the place his mark used to be and had to remind himself that it was merely phantom pain. It wasn’t real. The Dark Lord wasn’t calling him.

He and Remus both slept poorly those first couple of weeks. Regulus’s dreams turned to nightmares as he continued to fight his way out from the clutches of the Drink of Despair. Remus found himself not sleeping at all, as he saw Sirius’s hurt and wary face every time he closed his eyes.

Hermione hovered nervously around both of them, but especially Regulus. For having been put through the wringer, he was surprisingly steady. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it didn’t happen.

He struggled with balance, the lost limb changing his center of gravity, but he was adjusting quickly. Certain motions and actions had to be re-learned and he did so without complaint. And his stamina was improving; he had more energy and fight in him every day.

He had set about making tea for the three of them, setting out a plate of biscuits on the small table Remus and Hermione sat at.

Remus fiddled with the hem of his jumper nervously, glancing over at Hermione. She nodded almost imperceptibly, but Regulus seemed to notice just about everything.

He levitated the kettle over, pouring them each a cup before taking a seat. He took a sip, pretending not to see Remus nudge her under the table.

“Regulus,” Hermione cleared her throat, turning to him. “We were thinking it might be best for you to lie low elsewhere on Monday night. Maybe closer to the village? It’s only that it’s the full moon and—” She trailed off awkwardly, eyes flitting back to Remus.

“And it won’t be safe in these woods,” Remus continued soberly.

“So it is true,” Regulus lifted an eyebrow. “You _are_ a werewolf.”

Remus grimaced, “I’m afraid so.”

Regulus turned a curious eye towards Hermione. “You intend to stay with him?”

“I’m an animagus,” she explained. “Transformed, I’m a calming presence for Remus. Having an animal companion soothes the wolf. Although this will be the first time we’ve been out in the open together; we’d always used our basement. It’ll be nice to stretch our legs.”

She nodded to Regulus. “You’ll still be safest as far away as possible, though. Don’t want to risk it.”

He lifted his hand in surrender. “No arguments here. I have no desire to tangle with Remus.” He smirked in his direction. “Transformed or otherwise.”

Remus barked a laugh. “I _am_ pretty terrifying.”

“I’ve seen you with a wand. Or without one,” he shuddered. “Your level of mastery is rather unreal.”

Remus shrugged. “We’ve been training together for a long time.”

Regulus hummed contemplatively.

Remus cleared his throat. “You should join us—if you want. I think Hermione wants to ramp up our training regimen again anyway.”

“You’ve been slacking,” she said drily. Turning to Regulus, she continued, “You’re more than welcome. In fact, I’d really urge you to jump in. We can’t afford to get complacent.”

Regulus agreed with a pleased little smile. He rather liked being part of this, part of them. Of course, that contentment was a bit harder to hold onto when, the following day, Hermione ran them through a series of outlandish muggle “exercises” that left him huffing and aching from exertion.

“What did you call these?” he asked, lungs on fire.

“Jump squats,” Remus smirked at him, driving his hips back. “Awful, aren’t they?”

Regulus grit his teeth, determined not to fall behind—especially as he suspected that Hermione was going easy on him, “They are rather, aren’t they?”

Remus laughed, straightening with a little hop as he finished the count. He clapped Regulus on the back, “Just wait until she starts you on Russian twists.”

Regulus blanched, muttering, “Do I even want to know?”

“Don’t worry,” Hermione said drily, sweat rolling down her neck as she finished the set. “You’ll find out next time.”

“Defense practice?” Remus asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

She nodded, turning to Regulus with a mischievous smile, “You’re going to have jelly legs tomorrow.”

“Why?” he asked, puzzled. “Are we practicing Jelly-Legs Curses?”

Hermione rolled her eyes at Remus, who had snorted loudly at the idea.

“We’re practicing... how to avoid getting hit at all,” she explained, nodding to Remus. “I assume you’ll demonstrate?”

“Sure,” he said, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. His skin prickled from the cold.

“The goal,” Hermione told Regulus as Remus stalked off to the edge of the clearing, “is to settle your mind and allow your body to react. You hone your reflexes so that you might dodge a curse, rather than block it.”

Regulus furrowed his brow, “It’s not... unheard of, but it’s certainly not widely practiced.”

“Exactly,” Hermione hummed. “It should give us an edge.”

“READY?” Remus called to them. He’d stowed his wand and stood patiently.

“Anything that won’t actually maim him is fair game,” she murmured to Regulus. “GO!”

Regulus hung back, astonished as Hermione began firing. Bursts of light flew from her wand and yet Remus appeared unconcerned, shifting ever so slightly to avoid being hit. His precision was unbelievable to witness.

Hermione glanced back at him, eyebrow lifted in amusement. Regulus cleared his throat and raised his wand.

With two steady streams of jinxes coming towards him, Remus had to work a little harder; he deigned to actually move his feet, darting from and leaping over the bursts of light. Regulus pushed his own casting, concentrating on both speed and accuracy. He should have been able to land a hit by now.

At last, Remus did fall, taken down by the Leg-Locker Curse. Regulus and Hermione lowered their wands, Hermione snorting as Remus lost his footing. His bound legs caused him to trip forward, catching himself on his elbows. He peered up at them, panting, as they approached.

“Don’t say a word,” he grunted, fumbling for his wand.

“Not bad,” Hermione ignored him, sniffing. “But you’ve done better.”

Remus groaned, casting the counter-curse ruefully.

Regulus glanced between them with wide eyes, “I must say, the fact that you both consider this to be a sub-par performance is rather frightening.”

“Just how we like it,” Hermione smirked, helping Remus to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lord. Worried about all my fellow Regulus stans coming for me now. 😂 I promise he's been through the worst of it now, though. Only happy endings for our favorite Snake-y boi.
> 
> I've been having a really fun time talking to some of my readers on TikTok; you can always drop a comment on ao3 or message me there (@fictionbutmakeitgay) if you have questions about the fic or requests/ideas. I've definitely changed things based on reader feedback. Oh! And I also dropped a video on TikTok with some of the images I took inspiration from in my character creation. So, if you've ever wondered what the characters (including Billie!) look like, you can check it out there.
> 
> Have a great rest of your week! I'm going to need a little time for the next chapter, but it is on its way!
> 
> xo Ace


	35. Chapter 35

Time seemed to move at a glacial pace, winter refusing to yield. The trio was able to locate the Gaunt Shack, retrieving and destroying the ring. If Regulus found it odd that they were so knowledgeable about Voldemort’s Horcruxes and history, he kept it to himself.

They spent the majority of their time training in the clearing or sitting around the tent, kicking ideas around and—more often than not—being bored as shit.

It had been almost a relief when they had accidentally discovered a Taboo had gone into effect, a handful of Snatchers descending upon their campsite. They had been careful since then, to only refer to him as You-Know-Who.

Regulus had been thankful that day for their daily training exercises, his wand-arm steady as they clashed with the bounty hunters. While the trio had been caught unawares, they still easily overpowered the Snatchers. Hermione had obliviated them as he and Remus stowed their tent.

Their new campsite was effectively the same as the last, far enough away from civilization to hide them from prying eyes. But it did have the distinct advantage of being close enough to a few local villages that Hermione could chance a visit when their supplies ran low, flying to the edge of the forest and approaching by foot.

Remus tapped his foot anxiously as Regulus leaned over the chessboard, deliberating over his next play. Remus was sure it was just a ruse; Regulus probably had his next ten moves planned out already.

“Anytime this century,” he muttered. Regulus’s lips curved into a pleased little smile as his piece slid into position. Remus groaned, seeing Regulus’s rook behead his king.

“How do you always do this,” he muttered, glaring at Regulus half-heartedly, who shrugged in amusement.

“I must say, it’s nice actually besting you at _something_ ,” he teased, beginning to reset the board. “Another round?”

Remus started as the tent flap opened, Hermione slipping inside.

“Oh thank god,” he exhaled as Regulus slouched back in disappointment.

“Holding down the fort, I see,” she chuckled, unzipping her backpack and pulling out a couple of bags of groceries. Regulus leapt to his feet, eager to help her unpack.

“Fresh cheese,” Regulus gasped reverently. They’d been living on canned foods and ramen, so anything perishable was an absolute treat.

Remus sniffed the air, his mouth beginning to water. “Is that—?”

Hermione grinned, brandishing a paper bag that had already been soaked in grease.

“Hermione, I have never loved you as much as I do in this moment,” Remus proclaimed, his eyes glued to her hands as she removed several orders of fish and chips. They were wrapped in newspaper and fried to perfection.

“Have you ever had fish and chips, Regulus?” Hermione asked curiously as she set them out on the table. Remus moaned, stuffing his mouth. She’d kept it warm for them.

Regulus shot an incredulous glance at Remus, replying slowly, “Sort of. They served it at Hogwarts on occasion. But I’ve never had it from a muggle restaurant.”

“Chippy,” Remus mumbled, his eyes closed in bliss. “They’re called chippies, not restaurants.”

“Yes, that would be far too distinguished,” Hermione agreed wryly. She turned to Regulus, “You should go ahead and eat. I’ll finish putting stuff away.”

He hesitated but allowed himself to be pushed back into his chair.

“Mind if we have a bit of music?” Hermione asked, hand hovering near the wireless. With their assent, she flicked it on and soft music filled the tent.

_“That was ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love’ by Celestina Warbeck. I’m your host, Mortimer Harvey. Next up we have ‘Strange Magic’ by the Electric Light Orchestra.”_

“I wish we had any news from home,” Hermione grumbled. Remus hummed sympathetically, remembering Lee Jordan’s Potterwatch. “I feel like we’re blind out here.”

“You know,” Regulus paused between bites, holding a piece of fried fish delicately. “Harvey used to have a little news segment on his show.” He smirked, “Mother hated it. It was too progressive. And that’s disregarding the fact that he mixed wizarding and muggle music.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “I’ve never heard him say anything remotely political or topical. He just introduces the artists and songs.”

“He’s probably been under pressure to ‘appeal to the moderates’” Regulus rolled his eyes. “It’s ridiculous.”

“Probably,” Remus agreed, licking his fingers. “But he’s also likely afraid for his own life, or that of his family. Being a public figure like he is, he’d be made an example of.”

“I just want to know what’s going on,” Hermione groused, flopping down into her chair. “With this Taboo... I’m worried. I’m really fucking worried.”

“I’m not sure that knowing would make it any better,” Remus said quietly, his heart clenching at the thought of something happening to one of their friends.

“No,” Hermione agreed, chewing on her bottom lip. “I suppose it wouldn’t. What I really want is to be able to do something now.”

“Snatchers,” Regulus interrupted, straightening in his chair. “That’s the answer.”

“To what exactly?” Remus asked, arching his brow quizzically.

“You want to help at a distance,” Regulus explained, steepling his fingers. “Snatchers hunt indiscriminately; it doesn’t matter how remote we are. It then follows... that we could hunt the hunters.”

“We lure them to us—” Remus said slowly, the idea taking root.

“Once we’ve laid a trap,” Hermione finished, her eyes gleamed. “Regulus, you’re a genius!” His cheeks flushed with pleasure.

“Well, we aren’t planning to kill them, right?” Remus asked, twisting his hands nervously. “What exactly do we do with them, after we’ve... detained them?”

Hermione hummed, brows furrowed in contemplation. “We’d need a way to alert the Aurors—or the Order? I’m assuming the Snatchers are working for... You-Know-Who directly. That he hasn’t infiltrated the ministry.” She shook her head, continuing, “But we really shouldn’t risk contact with the wizarding world.”

“This is going to sound strange,” Regulus cleared his throat. “But what about something like the Dark Mark? It’s cast using Morsmordre, but we might be able to do something similar?”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically, “Perfect. A mark for the resistance we could cast into the sky as we left. That would be pretty hard to ignore, wouldn’t it?”

“The ministry would hate it,” Remus snorted. “Can you imagine? The damage control they’d have to do.”

Hermione sniffed. “I mean, the ministry can go to hell for all I care. Honestly.”

“It’s settled then,” Regulus smirked. “A mark to draw attention, and we’ll leave the Snatchers bound there.”

“All we’re missing is a design... and a lot of complicated skill work,” Remus said, rubbing his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on.

“Design first,” Hermione grinned, knocking their legs together. “We’ll save the fun for later.”

She laughed as Remus muttered “nerd” under his breath.

“Okay, I’ll start,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “A lion. Fierce, brave, and easily recognizable.”

“Absolutely not,” Regulus glared at her. “That is offensive to all other school houses.”

“Kid,” Remus laughed. “V—You-Know-Who literally took his inspiration from Salazar Slytherin.”

He pursed his lips, refusing to budge. Hermione sighed, jumping to the next idea, “Okay, how about a phoenix? It has an obvious connection to the Order.”

Remus wrinkled his nose this time, “Too obvious. Pass. We need something unique, but also clearly in opposition to the Dark Mark.”

“What’s a snake’s natural predator?” Regulus asked, getting up to rifle through his bag for a sketchbook.

“Unless I’m mistaken,” Remus said, trying to remember. “Larger birds, among others.”

“A bird of prey,” Hermione settled on, daring them to disagree. She smirked, “In fact—”

◓

It took a few tries to work out the kinks, but they’d gotten the art of Snatcher hunting down pat. The three of them had collaborated on spell design, creating an incantation that would shoot their own symbol into the sky.

Their last skirmish, Remus had blacked out at the end having been sliced open by a dark curse. When he awoke, Hermione was cradling his head, wrapping gauze over the side of his face. It was scarring rather nastily, but what was one more to a werewolf?

Remus touched the side of his face gently, tracing the pink scarring that ran from behind his left ear, cutting across his cheek.

“Ready?” Regulus murmured, wand at the ready. Remus nodded, settling his mind and releasing the tension from his back. He and Regulus both pulled the ski masks down over their faces, obscuring their features.

Remus spoke the name slowly and deliberately, “Voldemort.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Soon, a group of Snatchers appeared in the clearing, their eyes smudged in black and a red scrap tied to each one’s left arm.

Remus and Regulus fought well together, watching each others’ backs and anticipating one another’s next move on the fly. Remus still felt more at-home with Hermione, but their dynamic was growing on him.

Hermione, meanwhile, had decided it might be advantageous to learn to fight in her animagus form. Having an adult lion charge you out of nowhere—in Great Britain—it was a bit of mind fuck. She leapt on them from the shadows, her muscles bunching as she swiped an enormous paw across one’s back and slammed the next hunter to the ground.

Between the three of them, the Snatchers were incapacitated in a matter of minutes. Hermione retreated quietly out-of-sight, waiting for them to finish before transforming back. Remus and Regulus worked silently, collecting their wands and conjuring thick ropes to tie them with. Remus bound them to a tree, the Snatchers ringing the trunk.

Satisfied with their work, Regulus raised his wand to the sky. A giant falcon burst forth, flying up to hover among the clouds, a snake torn asunder in its claws.

They caught up with Hermione and three of them apparated, popping to a series of locations across the Isles before settling at the new campsite they’d scouted.

Remus and Regulus made quick work of the tent as Hermione set the wards, a song and dance they had come to know by heart.

◓

Remus had been helpless to protest when Hermione had pulled out the bottle of whiskey she’d procured on her latest supply run. Well, he’d protested a little; he had volunteered to be their “DD” that night and keep watch, just in case.

But who was he to deny her? Besides, Regulus seemed to be having the time of his life, his shoulders and lips loosening with the alcohol.

“I just don’t understand what you mean by ‘compersion’,” Regulus complained, swinging his legs off the side of his cot.

"It’s like—it’s like the polar opposite of jealousy. You get these warm, fuzzy feelings when your partner is with their other person,” Hermione tried to explain, and Remus tuned them out again.

He lay splayed out beside Regulus, looking at the well-worn strip of photos he and Sirius had taken at James and Lily’s wedding. It felt like an eternity had passed since then. He watched as Sirius tugged him forward for a kiss, lips sliding together. They drew back, smiling like loons. His heart clenched painfully and he tucked the photo away.

“Regu...Regs... _Reggie_ ,” Hermione landed on finally, shaking her head mournfully. “I would try to explain it, but I’m too drunk and _someone_ ,” she glared pointedly at Remus, “hasn’t even been listening to us!”

“I apologize for nothing,” Remus said, yawning.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, before redirecting her energy back to Regulus. She wagged her eyebrows at him, “And how about you? Any secret girlfriends? Boyfriends?”

He flushed, glanced away, “I... haven’t really been with anyone before.” At Hermione’s squawk of indignation, he continued, “It was always assumed that I’d have an arranged marriage.”

“Sure, but,” she leaned forward. “An arranged marriage doesn’t mean you have to be completely celibate until then, does it? Especially as a guy.”

“I’ve never really been attracted to anyone,” he admitted softly, his cheeks burning with shame. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Hermione blinked at him owlishly, asking, “So you’ve never had a crush?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe?”

“Go on,” Remus nodded encouragingly as he sat up, deciding he needed to step in. “Tell us about them.”

“Well, there was a boy I _might_ have fancied? He was a Hufflepuff in my year.” Regulus’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But it seems like most people sort of objectify others; they treat their ‘crushes’ like...I don’t know,” he trailed off awkwardly. “I just find the whole thing... uncomfortable.”

“So you don’t like the idea of kissing someone?” Hermione asked, cocking her head. “Or sex?”

Regulus’s flush deepened. “I—I don’t know. I think... with the right person, I would want to. But the acts in and of themselves don’t really appeal to me. I know it’s weird.” He turned away.

“No,” Remus nudged their feet together. “I don’t think it’s weird. You’re probably just somewhere on the asexual spectrum.”

“What does that mean?” Regulus asked, chancing a glance up at him.

“It means,” Remus explained, increasingly thankful that he’d remained sober that night. “That not everyone experiences attraction the same way. Some people don’t want to have sex at all—ever. Other people experience attraction very rarely, or in certain circumstances.”

“That’s a thing?” Regulus asked hopefully. “There are people like me?”

“Very much so,” he affirmed. “I think it’s important to remember that everyone experiences attraction differently. The idea of there being a standard—of a ‘normal’ is pretty shit, honestly.”

Regulus’s lips curved up slightly, looking at Remus gratefully.

Remus glanced over at Hermione, where she lay on the opposite cot. He snorted; she was snoring softly, her mouth slack.

“I think it might be time for bed,” he murmured softly.

“Yeah,” Regulus chuckled, continuing quietly. “Thank you. I... I find myself, once again, extraordinarily jealous of my brother. I wish I’d had someone like you when I was in school. You’re—”

“Tosh,” Remus knocked their knees together. “I’m not all that special.” He sighed, seeing Regulus close himself off again. “I’m sorry, I’ve always had a hard time accepting it when people see the good in me. Thank you—really.”

They didn’t say anything more, but Remus saw Regulus smile as he turned away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I know I'm taking a little longer between chapters right now but a lot has happened in the past week. 
> 
> The biggest news is I now have beta readers! Maddy (TT @iswearimuptonogood) has helped me comb through the entire fic already and we're working together on the rest of the story outline now. I'm really excited for the changes she's helped me make—her feedback has been invaluable in elevating this story!
> 
> I also have a few other beta readers working on catching up right now, so I'll be continuing to do revisions as I simultaneously work on future chapters.
> 
> My other piece of big news is that I am also writing a super short (7-10k words) LunaxGinny fic that I'm really excited about. We don't have enough wlw fics out there, so I figured I should write down what I envision as their story post-Hogwarts. You can subscribe to me as author on ao3 of follow me on TikTok (@fictionbutmakeitgay) for updates.
> 
> Big thank you to all of my long-term readers and new readers for following along with this story and giving me the confidence to write! I really appreciate all the lovely comments this week. 💜
> 
> Oh! Last thing is the song referenced this chapter is "Strange Magic" by Electric Light Orchestra. I know some of y'all have been making a playlist as you follow along. 
> 
> xo Ace


	36. Chapter 36

Hermione awoke with a start, her chest heaving. Cold sweat trickled down the back of her neck as she struggled to sit up, the sheets having wound themselves around her legs.

“Everything okay?” Remus murmured lowly, crouching next to her cot. She fumbled her hand out, searching for him in the dark.

She could still hear their immortal voice echoing throughout her head. _It’s time, my little lion._

She swallowed, her mouth as dry as sand. She rasped, “We need to talk.”

The three of them gathered around the small table, bleary-eyed and weary.

Remus ground the palms of his hands into his eyes. His nightmares had been intensifying the longer they hid, his deepest fears and insecurities rearing their ugly heads.

_Lily and James’s unseeing eyes staring through him, their lifeless bodies stretched out on the ground where they had fallen. Peter looked at him, shaking his head mournfully, “This is your fault, Moony. How could you let this happen?”_

_Sirius slowly going mad, insanity and grief re-writing his features as he rotted in Azkaban. He cackled, raving about the lover who had cast him aside, just like the rest of his family._

_Hermione and Regulus, struck on the battlefield as Remus lay paralyzed nearby, able only to watch as the life left their bodies._

Remus shook his head as if to dispel the dreams, trying to focus on the moment at hand.

“We have to act now,” Hermione said, her jaw set. “We’re sitting on our hands without any good reason at this point.”

“You’re right,” he agreed roughly. “Every day that we delay, how many lives are lost?” He leaned forward, reaching out to grasp both of their arms. He squeezed, continuing, “Besides, we’re ready. Hermione’s really whipped us into shape, huh kid?”

Regulus flushed, stealing a sideways glance at Hermione. She nodded proudly, nudging their feet together. “We can do this,” she affirmed. “We just need to solidify the final pieces of the plan.”

“The Gringotts Heist heist should be smooth, barring unforeseen circumstances,” Hermione continued.

“If they let Regulus in, we have the Cup,” Remus nodded, eternally grateful that Regulus hadn’t asked too many questions about how they knew so much about Voldemort’s horcruxes. Remus was sure that he had his own theories, but found asking outright unseemly.

“Which means we need to zero in on our Last Stand,” Hermione said, chewing on her bottom lip. “How do we ensure that he shows up, when we lay a trap?”

“The wireless,” Regulus leaned forward, his voice rising in excitement. “We should broadcast the battle.”

“Go on,” Hermione arched an eyebrow.

“Okay, so there’s no guarantee You-Know-Who would even answer the call of a duel, unless he felt like he had to save face. If the world was watching...”

“He would feel compelled to go himself, rather than just dispatching his Death Eaters,” Remus concluded. “But who would ‘televise’ it so-to-speak?”

“Mortimer Harvey,” Regulus said, his eyes glinting with self-satisfaction. Counting off with his fingers, he explained, “He’s well-respected in the wizarding world by most families, he has a platform, and he’s sympathetic to the cause.”

“Inspired,” Hermione breathed, looking at him in awe. “Reggie, that’s bloody brilliant!”

Remus’s heart ached for the Black brothers, seeing how Regulus flourished with just the little bit of encouragement and affection he’d received these past few months. He soaked up every compliment, nickname, and moment of camaraderie like a sponge.

“The question is...” Remus mused, leaning back. “How do we find him?”

“Well,” Regulus’s brow furrowed. “Where do they broadcast ‘Harvey Hour’ from? We could start there. Could it be in London?”

“No,” Hermione frowned, thinking back to her time at Bill and Fleur’s cottage. “It’s in Tinworth.”

“Is that...” Remus started, his eyes widening slightly in recognition.

She nodded, explaining, “Tinworth is a small coastal village in Cornwall. The community is primarily composed of muggles, but there are a number of wizards who live and work there. I believe they have a magical broadcasting station.”

“Then that’s where we go,” Regulus nodded firmly. “Tinworth.”

◓

They’d followed him home from the radio station, pressing past him through the narrow entryway. Remus disarmed him in an instant, tucking Havey’s wand away.

They weren’t exactly off to the best start, but having a conversation at all was rather the point. They couldn’t force him to agree, only to listen. After that, it was up to him.

His mouth quivered angrily, bushy brows furrowed in consternation as they settled into his drawing-room. But Regulus and Hermione had barreled past his displeasure, presenting their case.

“A duel?” he glared at them incredulously. “You must be joking. You-Know-Who is the most powerful wizard of our time. Who could possibly stand a chance against him? Even Dumbledore knows he isn’t a match.”

“Me,” Remus jutted his chin out, slouched against the doorway. “I’m the best duelist of our generation.”

“You?” he squawked. “No one’s even heard of you, boy!”

“Exactly,” Remus smirked. “I’m a nobody. He’ll make the mistake of underestimating me. He doesn’t know how I fight, how quickly I can respond—nothing. And when he learns, it’ll be too late. He’ll be ensnared.”

Harvey shook his head, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “It doesn’t matter how talented you think you are, he’s better. You won’t be able to overpower him—”

“I don’t need to overpower him,” Remus shot back. “All I have to do is _survive_ long enough. If I can engage him and keep his attention, Regulus and Hermione have the opportunity to lay the real trap.”

“I still don’t like it,” his eyes had softened as they continued to explain their plans. “You’re just kids...”

“Kids are dying every day of this war,” Regulus countered quietly. “We have to end it. With your voice, we’d actually have a shot.”

Harvey grimaced, scratching the back of his neck. “I need to talk to my sister first. Can I meet you in a few days?”

“Of course,” Hermione nodded, pressing a gentle hand to his shoulder. “You know how to find us.”

◓

Remus gritted his teeth as Harvey jostled his cot, bumping into the edge. He flung an arm over his eyes and burrowed the back of his head further into the pillow.

“Merlin’s beard, it's cramped in here,” Harvey grimaced, rubbing his leg wryly.

“Won’t be long now,” Hermione assured, casting a nervous glance at Remus. The heist was planned for that evening. If all went according to plan, everything would come to a head in just a few days.

“I still don’t understand how you intend to infiltrate Gringotts without alerting You-Know-Who,” Harvey scratched his head, settling onto his own cot.

“Well, for one it’s not his vault,” Regulus explained. “It’s Bellatrix’s. She’ll likely realize what’s been taken and ensure the break-in remains quiet while she hunts the perpetrator herself. She knows her status in the Dark Lord’s army will plummet if he discovers her failure to adequately protect his horcrux.”

“And how did you discover—”

Remus groaned loudly, his head throbbing.

“Maybe let’s move this outside?” Hermione suggested gently. “Remus hasn’t been sleeping well and he needs rest for tonight.”

“Of course!” Mortimer jumped up, glancing over his shoulder guiltily as he and Regulus left the tent.

Hermione slid into bed with Remus, wrapping an arm around his middle. He relaxed into her gratefully.

“Are you doing okay?” she murmured.

“I’m just ready for this to be over,” he sighed. “All the waiting—I hate it. And we’re so close...”

“I know,” she murmured, squeezing him. “Listen, we might not get another moment alone. I just want to say—”

Remus’s chest constricted, eyes beginning to water. “Hermione,” he pleaded.

“No,” she said firmly. “I need you to know how deeply I care for you. Our friendship... it’s the most meaningful relationship I’ve ever had. And however long I live, whether I have three days or sixty years left, you’re... everything, Remus.”

“Fuck,” he choked, reaching up to wipe tears away. “I love you, too. I—I’ve never told you how grateful I am. Having you here with me in this life, you’re my rock. You’ve made my life impossibly better.”

“Shit, we’ve gone soft,” Hermione joked weakly.

“Best get it out of our systems now,” he agreed, chuckling.

◓

Regulus and Remus pulled the heist off without breaking a sweat. Well, he might be sweating a bit _now_ , he thought wryly, as they fled Gringotts.

Gaining access to Bellatrix’s vault was practically child’s play. They entered the bank together at dusk, hoods drawn up to cloak their faces in shadow.

Regulus drew his hood away just enough to reveal his face to the bank teller, demanding access to the Black family vault. They verified his wand and papers, and just like that—they were in, granted access to Gringotts’s deep caverns.

Regulus placed the banker assigned as their escort under the Imperius curse, hardening his heart. It might be unforgivable, but this was too important. The goblin led them directly to the Lestrange vault, bypassing the Black family’s entirely. With his help, they bypassed its security measures.

Remus kept his wand on their guide as Regulus withdrew a singular broomstick from his bag. He zoomed through the vault, careful not to let his body touch any of the cursed treasure within as he searched. He found Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup balanced preciously at the top of a horde of gold, recognizable by the badger engraved upon its side.

Regulus gritted his teeth and hovered several feet away. He gripped the broomstick between his thighs, extracting the muggle oddity from his bag. Hermione had bought the device at a village shop, claiming that the elderly used it to pick things up off the ground without bending over. Its long reach allowed him to catch the cup in its claw, where he held it as he flew down to Remus.

Regulus dropped the broomstick with a clatter as he landed, heart racing with adrenaline. He still wielded the trash picker, though his arm shook with nerves.

Remus relaxed his guard long enough to hold open the pouch they’d brought with them just for the horcrux. Regulus dropped it in, shoulders drooping in relief. So far, so good.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Remus muttered, grasping his sleeve as they ran back to the trolley. They abandoned the cart and dazed goblin back at the entrance.

They slipped out into Diagon Alley as the goblins cried out behind them, steps quickening as they fled.

“You there!” they heard someone shout. “Stop!”

Remus closed his eyes, fingers wrapped around Regulus’s arm as he tried to disapparate. It didn't work.

“Shit,” he growled. “They must have cast an anti-disapparition jinx.”

They whirled, branching off to face the two aurors who had followed them. It happened so quickly, yet Remus felt as if time ground to a halt.

Sirius approached with his wand raised. His drawn face scrunched in concentration as his partner barked orders.

Remus’s mouth went dry as Sirius’s eyes lit in recognition, his gaze tracing Remus’s scarred face. Remus felt his stomach churn with guilt as he took in Sirius’s bloodshot eyes and hollowed cheeks. _He’d done this to him_ , Remus was sure of it. _This was his fault._

Sirius looked like he wanted to say something, but all he did was lower his wand even as Sutherland, his partner, struggled against Regulus. He could have fought, he could have raged against him; but instead he gave Remus an out, placing his trust in him.

Remus jerked his chin in gratitude and petrified him, Sirius’s body rendered immobile. He couldn’t be responsible for Sirius facing an inquiry at work; he’d done him enough harm already.

And yet he hesitated to turn away, not wanting to leave Sirius behind again—wishing this moment, strange and awful as it was, could stretch on a bit longer.

“We have to go,” Regulus murmured in his ear, Sutherland petrified behind him. Remus snapped back to his senses. They didn’t have time for this.

He cleared his throat, summoning Sirius’s bike keys as he tore his eyes away apologetically. He towed Regulus along with him as he ran towards where Sirius used to stow his motorcycle. He exhaled in relief to find it parked in its usual spot.

“Let’s get the _hell_ out of here,” he growled, nudging the kickstand up. Regulus pressed up behind him, hanging on nervously. The bike lurched forward as Remus gunned it. When they picked up enough speed he kicked the flight pedal, Sirius’s instructions from all those months ago echoing bittersweetly in his mind.

“That was Sutherland,” he shouted back at Regulus over the roar of the bike. “He’s a _tool_!”

“I guess Sirius won’t mind that I panicked and gave him boils,” Regulus said.

“No, that’s perfect,” Remus grinned. “He’ll love that.”

Regulus shook with laughter behind him as they broke through the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> As my friends on TikTok may have seen, this has been a wild week for me. Where I live, much of the city is without power or water during a historic snowstorm. I was lucky enough to move to a family friend's home two days ago to shelter with her. So I've been keeping warm here. No running water now, but we're doing okay.
> 
> There's not much to do but wait right now, so I've been doing some writing. I'm still working on the next chapter for this story but hope to have it out in a week or so. Maddy (@iswearimuptonogood on TT) has continued to help me flesh out the rest of the story. She's been SUCH a huge help in providing feedback on relationships storylines and noting any plot-holes.
> 
> I also wanted to mention that my new Luna/Ginny "Everyday Possibilities" is published on ao3. The first chapter went out last weekend, and I intend to post the next one within a day or two. 
> 
> Oh! LAST last thing: a reader (shoutout to @lawandauror on TT) gave me the idea of publishing a Spotify playlist for this fic. It has all the songs mentioned so far. And there will be more! It's on my Linktree: https://linktr.ee/gayfiction
> 
> If you've been impacted by the snowstorms, I hope you've been able to stay safe and warm. Love to you all! 
> 
> xo Ace | TT @fictionbutmakeitgay


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for graphic violence & PTSD
> 
> If you’re following along with the music in this fic, I’d also recommend pulling up the Spotify playlist in advance. https://linktr.ee/gayfiction

Hermione snuck another glance at her watch, willing her body to remain unaffected even as her nerves frayed. _Would she even come?_ The small muggle cafe was how she remembered, small tables spread throughout the inviting space. She and Marlene had come here all the time after boxing class to grab a sandwich or a coffee.

Marlene hurried through the door, her coat catching on the handle. She impatiently freed herself and made a beeline to Hermione’s table. She slid into the empty chair opposite her, breathing heavily. Her heart-shaped face was lined with worry.

“You still know how to make an entrance,” Hermione said wryly, sliding a cup of coffee across the small table. “I take it you received my message.”

“Hermione,” Marlene leaned forward, lips thinned in concern. “What the bloody hell is going on? Where have you been?”

“Keep your voice down, Marls,” Hermione muttered, glancing around. No one seemed to be watching them. Marlene glared at her, her round cheeks flushing with displeasure.

“Is Remus with you?” Marlene asked, lowering her voice grudgingly.

“Yeah,” Hermione coughed, glancing away guiltily. “We left at the end of December. But I can't tell you anything more. Don’t ask me again.”

Marlene scrubbed her face, sighing as she relaxed her hands. “Are you at least alright?” she asked, eyes searching Hermione’s face.

“Yeah,” she swallowed, heart constricting at her friend’s concern. “We’re okay.”

Marlene offered her a tentative smile, which Hermione returned nervously.

“I need your help,” she murmured, fidgeting with her coffee cup. “I wouldn’t ask, but...”

“With what?” Marlene asked, peering at her suspiciously.

“Breaking into the Prophet,” Hermione grimaced, knowing how crazy she sounded.

“Kitten, I could lose my job,” Marlene said, shifting uncomfortably. “You know I’d do anything for you, but—”

“It’s important,” Hermione pleaded. “It could end the war. We have a real opportunity to put it to rest—to defeat him. But we need access to the printing press.”

She wished she could tell Marlene everything. But with their watchful divine eyes fixed on her and Remus, she didn’t dare. And of course there was the problem of Peter. Had he turned, or made a different choice in this reality? There was always a chance.

Marlene tapped her fingers on the table, mind scrambling to make sense of the few data points she had.

“Ack! You’re off your head, but then so am I,” she snorted, a wry smile splitting across her face.

Hermione’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank fuck,” she muttered, leaning back in her chair.

They quietly schemed, planning the break-in meticulously. Marlene’s help would be invaluable; Hermione wasn’t sure she could have pulled it off without her.

They descended upon the Daily Prophet’s printing house that very night, hoods drawn up as Marlene let them into the building. Hermione kept watch as Marlene printed the insert that they would include in the next day’s paper.

“Are you sure about this, lassie?” Marlene asked, clutching a stack of freshly-printed pages.

Hermione glanced down at the papers, Remus’s scarred face staring back at her as he smirked, twirling his wand. He challenged Voldemort to a wizarding duel the day of the newspaper’s release and invited all to witness it through Mortimer Harvey’s broadcast.

With the fear Voldemort and his Snatchers invoked, they hoped it would be enough to deter people from showing up in person to watch and instead tune in via the wireless. Harvey’s name carried weight, that was indisputable. Voldemort had to rise to their bait. He couldn’t afford to let some kids make a mockery of him.

Hermione nodded grimly, “I have faith in Remus—in _us_. I have to.”

Marlene sent the inserts whizzing through the room, tucking themselves neatly into each issue of the Daily Prophet.

“Listen, Marls,” Hermione shifted guiltily, ashamed to be asking even more of her friend. “You-Know-Who is unlikely to come alone tomorrow. If you could spread the word among the Order, I’d be really grateful. We could use the support.”

“Of course,” Marlene squeezed her arm encouragingly. “I’ll be there, for one. And I’ll talk to the others. I’m sure they’ll want to help. But, Hermione...”

“What?” Hermione asked, her chest tightening anxiously.

“There’s a spy in the Order,” Marlene bit her lip. “We don’t know who, but there are rumors it’s Sirius. With his family...” she trailed off awkwardly.

Hermione shook her head, rage crawling under skin, “Sirius would never. Just be careful, okay?”

She tugged Marlene into a bone-crushing hug, murmuring, “Thank you—for everything.” Marlene squeezed back, her fingers curling into Hermione’s cloak.

◓

The trio stood high above the quidditch pitch, nestled in the VIP box. They had chosen the Exmoor Quidditch Stadium for their last stand, its pitch unused and perfect for a bystander-free fight. And yet it was a space that many would be familiar with, having hosted the world cup in 1978. The large oval field was fully encircled by towering stadium-style seating.

Harvey was in the process of setting up his broadcast station, disillusioned among the bleachers. They hoped it would be enough—that he’d be able to broadcast without interference.

Regulus leaned against the rail, short curls whipping in the wind. His once-shuttered face was alight in anticipation, cheeks flushed from the chill. It was spring, but the weather there in Exmoor didn’t seem to have gotten the memo.

Hermione knocked their shoulders together, smiling down at him.

“Ready, kid?” she asked lightly. “Take down a madman, save the world?”

“All in a day’s work,” he joked, turning his attention to Remus. He arched an eyebrow, seeing him muttering and pacing about. Remus re-ran the plan and the back-up plans in his mind, combing his hands through his overgrown hair.

“Okay, old man?” Regulus asked, a flicker of concern now reflected in his own voice. Remus stilled, trying to center himself. There was so much riding on this, riding on him. But his team wasn’t just relying on him on the battlefield—they needed his assurance now more than ever.

“Never better,” Remus turned his kind eyes to them, joining them by the edge. He smirked, “Ready to give ‘em hell.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hermione snorted, clapping him on the back. She withdrew a small flask of whiskey.

“One swig each,” she fixed her eyes sternly upon them even as her full lips twitched. “For good luck.”

Regulus checked the time again, pulling out his antique pocket watch.

“Should be any minute now,” he murmured, accepting the flask from Remus.

He nearly choked on whiskey as death eaters began appearing on the field, their cloaks swirling behind them as they landed. He’d expected them to come in force, but seeing how many of them lined the ground—his stomach churned with doubt.

“Just remember what we’ve practiced,” Remus said, drawing his shoulders back. “Let’s make a fucking _entrance_.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Hermione squeezed his arm. And just like that, Remus climbed over the edge of the rail and stepped off.

Regulus and Hermione cast a well-practiced gust of wind that buffeted him from the box all the way to the earth as he spread his arms in flight akin to Icarus. As he hurtled towards the ground, he grit his teeth in anticipation, the wind slicing at his skin. He arrested his momentum just before he would have otherwise hit the dirt, casting his own spell to crack the earth open dramatically as he landed.

The ground opened up, a long and narrow fissure forming that snaked its way across the pitch. As the dust settled, Remus emerged with Hermione and Regulus flanking him, having apparated to his side upon impact.

Mortimer Harvey’s crisp voice cut through the air, booming throughout the pitch as he broadcasted live.

_“Wow! What an entrance. Remus Lupin has dropped, quite literally, onto the field. He’s joined by two allies, Hermione Longbottom and Regulus Black. But they are HEAVILY outnumbered!”_

The trio descended upon the amassed death eaters, their muscles bunched tensely. Where was everyone? Surely, at least some of the Order would have risen up to march into battle with them.

As they engaged the first wave of death eaters, sweat rolled off Remus’s neck. They couldn’t do this alone.

_“The trio has been joined by a legion of fighters! I can only assume they must belong to the famed Order of the Phoenix.”_

They breathed a collective sigh in relief as their friends and allies appeared on the pitch: Marlene, James and Lily, Sirius, Peter, Frank and Alice, Gideon and Fabian, Emmeline, Dorcas, and even Mad-Eye.

Their group was still outnumbered but launched a skilled defense. Remus took the lead in their trio, cutting their way through their opponents with practiced ease. The snatcher hunts and months of training had paid off.

And yet Voldemort was still nowhere to be seen. Holding off his army was all well and good, but it was useless unless he actually engaged Remus.

Remus turned, about to ask which back-up plan to use, when he saw the hulking form of Fenrir Greyback. Clad in filthy rags, he barreled across the field with sharpened canines bared.

Remus froze, his heart racing as his eyes followed Greyback, loping towards them. He felt like he might be sick, his body trembling as waves of nausea crashed over him. He felt as helpless as the day he’d been bitten at the age of four.

Hermione shot in front of Remus, realizing that Voldemort must have sent him specifically—aware of the trauma Greyback had inflicted upon him as a child. She blocked Remus’s line of sight, pressing comforting hands to his arms as Regulus covered them.

“Breathe with me,” she said, voice strong and steady as she counted. “That’s it. Focus on me.”

Remus grounded himself in the feeling of her hands, the features of her face, and the sound of her voice. _He might be a monster, too, but he could do this. He could save them all._

Hermione peeked over her shoulder, relieved to find that James and Sirius had tag-teamed Greyback, holding his attention with their combined efforts.

Hermione and Remus re-engaged in the fight, joining Regulus in the fray.

“We have to enact Plan Dumbass!” Regulus shouted as spells flew from his wand.

Remus blanched, his heart hammering nervously. It was risky, extraordinarily so, but there was still no sign of Voldemort on the field.

He gritted his teeth and shot sparks up to signal Mortimer.

_“Oh my! Remus Lupin has requested a song. He informed me that this would only occur if Voldemort was too cowardly to show his face. And that he would only stop if he was granted the duel.”_

Remus fell back and stowed his wand, trusting Regulus and Hermione to protect him as he undertook a fool’s errand. He stripped off his jacket as the music started, echoing across the pitch. If this didn’t draw Voldemort out, he didn’t know what would.

He tried to forget his stomach, still flip-flopping in agitation. The unassuming instrumental intro kicked in and he began to dance. But his limbs locked up, muting his movements. He had to pull it together.

Breathing deeply, he pictured James and Sirius: their easy confidence, the swagger, the general idiocy he secretly loved. Character fixed in his mind, he channeled that energy. His body physically responded, allowing him to loosen his hips and shoulders.

The beat kicked in with force, swash-buckling vocals bringing the song to life. Remus adopted a cocky smirk, strutting forward as the beat dropped.

_I'm your boogie man that's what I am_  
_I'm here to do whatever I can_  
_Be it early morning, late afternoon_  
_Or at midnight, it's never too soon_

Mortimer Harvey’s voice rose above the music, booming across the stadium as he relayed the events to the audience listening at home.

_“Remus Lupin is dancing his heart out, folks! I’m honestly shocked that Voldemort has allowed this to happen at all. Why is he so afraid to face a boy in single-combat?”_

Remus planted his feet as Regulus and Hermione continued to shield him. He rolled his hips, running both hands through his mussed hair.

_To want to please you, to want to please you_  
_To want to do it all, all for you_  
_I want to be your, be your rubber ball_  
_I want to be the one ya love most of all, oh yeah_

Playing up his overconfidence, Remus withdrew his wand and blocked a stray curse, hitting the break in the music. He then took his drawn wand, holding it close to his lips as he sang into it like a microphone.

_I'm your boogie man I'm your boogie man_  
_Turn me on_  
_I'm your boogie man I'm your boogie man_  
_Do what you want_

Body thrumming with adrenalin, he stilled as Voldemort appeared on the pitch. Lightning struck around him, electricity crackling in the air.

_“Voldemort has arrived on the scene, and let me tell you—he looks madder than a wet hen!”_

Voldemort strode forward across the pitch, dark cloak billowing behind him. His scarlet eyes fixed firmly on Remus alone, he began casting with frightening speed and accuracy.

Rather than block each curse, Remus primarily dodged as he ran forward to meet him on the battlefield. His reflexes and years of training kept him alive, anticipating the trajectory of every spell.

Hermione and Regulus shielded themselves and followed at a distance, hanging back as they waited for the two wizards to clash in closer proximity.

Remus rooted himself a stone’s throw from Voldemort. Up close, his appearance nearly resembled that of the second war, his pale skin dripping like melted wax. Missing Nagini’s influence, his features still took their cue from humanity.

Voldemort thin lips curled as they squared off. “The Lupin boy,” he rasped. “A half-breed. You’re not even fit to breathe the same air, mongrel.”

“I think I’m doing alright,” Remus growled, blocking another curse. “You’re not as powerful as you want people to believe, are you? Always sending your cronies to do the dirty work.”

Close by Regulus and Hermione fought off a pair of death eaters whose faces were obscured by eerie masks and raised hoods.

Hermione startled in surprise as her opponent fell to the ground, ropes tying themselves around his body.

“Thought you could use a hand,” Alice quipped, appearing at their side with Frank just behind her. Her round face was calm under pressure—one of the traits that made her such a formidable auror. Alice’s short, mousey hair shot up in dogged spikes. Her belly caught Hermione’s eye, expanded as Lily’s was. Both women were due in July.

“Alice,” Hermione breathed, feeling simultaneously guilty and relieved to have Alice there.

“What can we do?” Alice asked grimly as Frank held off another death eater. Hermione straightened her spine. People were looking to her for direction, like a general.

“I need you to cover us,” she explained, taking note of the state of the battlefield. Remus kept Voldemort nicely contained, but more death eaters approached. “Regulus and I have to make a lap, but we need protection while we do it.”

“We’ve got you,” Alice nodded curtly, relaying instructions to Frank.

Regulus and Hermione started off slowly, painstakingly setting up wards to prevent apparition and other interference. No one in, no one out. Regulus glanced over at her to check one last time. She inclined her head, heart clenching.

He unleashed the fiendfyre, concentrating on mirroring the ring of their wards. Sweat rolled off his brow as a pack of fiery chimaeras and serpents flew from his wand, encircling Remus and Voldemort. Wand readied, Hermione sprung the extra barrier that would aid in preventing its spread.

_“A sort of ring has appeared around the duel. It’s fiendfyre! I think Remus Lupin and his friends are intent that this end today, no matter—”_

The announcements cut out abruptly as the sound of a scuffle cut through the airwaves. Hermione turned sharply, calling for Marlene and Lily to help Harvey as she directed them towards his position.

Within the ring of fire, Remus felt his body flagging. He’d held his own thus far, but he still couldn’t hope to defeat Voldemort in a traditional duel. He staggered as Voldemort disarmed him, his wand flying into those skeletal fingers.

Voldemort smugly snapped it in half with a crack. “And you really thought you could match the Dark Lord,” he gloated. “ _Crucio._ ”

Remus ground his teeth together, trying to prevent the scream that escaped his cracked lips. Voldemort sneered, lifting his writhing body like a puppet on a string. He snapped both of Remus’s legs before sending him crashing back down on the ground.

Remus gasped, reeling from the pain. It wasn’t difficult to let himself appear helpless—he certainly felt it, his magical core drained almost completely.

“Please,” he whispered, seeking out the few remaining threads of his magic.

“Not even an ounce of dignity,” Voldemort sniffed. “They _always_ beg.”

He raised his wand, but Remus was faster. With the last of his reserves, he blasted Voldemort into the cursed fire. No wand, no words. Grimly, he watched as the monster who’d killed nearly everyone he’d ever loved burned alive. The fiendfyre roared in delight, finally allowed to take a life. High above the pitch, a raven cawed triumphantly, eyes glinting in satisfaction.

Remus reached within for the strength to cast their mark in the air—the signal that it was over; that they might try to extract him. But he couldn’t. He was completely drained, incapable of a single spell.

He let his head fall back on the trampled earth. How long could they hold the fiendfyre off? It couldn’t be for much longer. A part of him was almost relieved to see the end in front of him. He’d had a long, hard life. His excruciating transformations, his grief and loss, his years of poverty... These past few years had been a blessing. And if his friends could live, his life would mean something. He’d happily make this sacrifice.

On the other side of the flames, Hermione shifted nervously. They should have seen the mark by now, the bird of prey flying high above the field clutching the remains of a snake. But it was nowhere to be seen, even after the fire had exploded victoriously.

She hadn’t counted on having to fend off Sirius and James indefinitely as they gnashed their teeth, worried about Remus.

“You have to remove the wards!” Sirius shouted, his face drawn with worry. “Moony is going to fucking DIE in there. I swear to—”

Hermione’s stomach knotted and she scrubbed a hand over her dirty face. There was a good chance Remus had succeeded. And if she was responsible for his needless death... How could she ever live with herself?

“Fine!” she snarled, raising her wand. “I can’t remove the external protections keeping the fire from spreading outwards. But I can make it so that someone can get it there.”

As she whispered the incantations, James shot up into the air on his broomstick.

Remus faded in and out of consciousness, his mind and body weak from the depletion of his magic. He could vaguely make out a figure landing in the middle of the flames.

“Prongs,” he murmured dazedly. “I’ll always love you—you and Lils and—”

“Shh,” James whispered, scooping him up into his arms. “Save your strength, Moony.”

Remus lost track of the time. Different faces flashed above where he lay on the pitch. He latched onto Sirius’s misty eyes, Lily’s freckles, and Hermione’s full lips. But he couldn’t understand a word they were saying. He ignored the fingers that snapped in front of his face and let his head loll back as he slipped into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. I’ve been thinking about this chapter for SO long. It feels crazy to actually be publishing it. It’s definitely changed as my understanding of the characters and some of the plotlines morphed. But I am really happy with how it’s turned out.
> 
> Don’t worry—I know Remus is in rough shape now, but I did promise y’all a happy ending. And of course, we still have quite a few chapters left.
> 
> The song referenced in this chapter is I’m Your Boogie Man by KC & The Sunshine Band. You can find it last on the Spotify playlist, which is on my Linktree. https://linktr.ee/gayfiction
> 
> Hope y’all enjoyed Voldemort’s demise! I know everyone’s anxious for our babes to reunite with their loved ones.
> 
> I also wanted to thank Sydney for joining the beta reader team! Every time I receive feedback on this fic, it just gets better. 💜
> 
> For those of you who are following along, my Luna x Ginny fic, Everyday Possibilities, will wrap up this weekend with the third and final chapter!
> 
> And if you follow me on TT (@fictionbutmakeitgay), you also know I've hopped onto Jegulus week with some low-key cosplay efforts. It's one of my favorite ships for marauders AUs! I've got some more cosplays in the works, too.
> 
> Have a great week! Let me know what y'all thought. 
> 
> Xo Ace


End file.
